The Burrows
by Gabriel LaVedier
Summary: The Tri-Burrows. Bucolic paradise, located a quick express train ride from the bustling megalopolis of Zootopia. Lives move, slowly but surely, in the beautiful landscape of shady groves and vast farmlands. Bunnyburrow, Squirrelburrow, Predburrow. These are the places. And these are the stories of the colorful characters that fill them.
1. Re: Union, Part 1

I do not own Zootopia, that belongs to Disney. This a fan work made solely for the sake of amusement.

 **The Burrows**

 **Chapter One: Re: Union, Part One**

 **By: Gabriel LaVedier**

"Every wedding is a new reunion. It's always different, it's always wonderful, and it's exciting. No matter how many times we have one, we always have a great time at a wedding," Stu said happily. He was standing at one of the front windows of the highest floor of the Hopps family home, looking out over the vast sweep of his property, stretching out to the horizon. The Nighthowlers bloomed blue and beautiful between the field rows, and all his produce was growing strong and lush. Some of his children dashed around, playing, and some stood around talking. "It's a beautiful thing."

"And work, dear. Don't forget it's work. Maybe you could do some, Stu," Bonnie grumbled. She was on her knees, wearing a heavy brocade apron with pockets spilling with sewing equipment. Needle cases, ribbon spools, thread spools, measuring tape, tailor's chalk and other things. A pincushion was on her right wrist, and other pins hung from her lips. She was working on the wedding dress which was hanging in ample, flowing folds on Princess Weaselton.

The dress was clearly designed for a Bonnie-style plump and proportionally squat rabbit, which was highly improbable on Princess. She was standing on a stool but it was hardly necessary, as her long torso pulled the wide dress up to expose a good portion of her legs. "You sure I can't get a dress from a store? I mean, ma lost her dress, but we can buy something."

"Oh don't worry, dear. This isn't a problem. We just get like this around weddings. It gets to be a lot because we usually have a few going on at once. Just two, that's like a vacation!" Bonnie laughed.

"But... this dress was... it's pretty beautiful but... weasels have special clothing needs," Princess said, looking at herself in the long mirror positioned near her.

"Dear, rabbits come in our own little mix of sizes. Do you think Judy could have fit perfectly into that dress? Or a doe version of Zeke O'Pogo? A good mother knows how to turn a dress into perfect fit," Bonnie said with a bright smile.

"Hey... yeah... where did the dress come from? I'm not trying to say anything, but I'm pretty sure this wasn't the one you got married in, or the one Judy wore."

"Rabbits usually have big families, no surprise. We're on the far side of strictly normal but nothing really unusual," Bonnie said, scribbling down a note regarding the extra length needed to touch the ground. "One of the things that comes in the big cedar chest with a quilt and pillow shams is a collection of white gowns. You wear a gown that your mother fits to you, and the ones in the chest... you fit to your daughters."

Princess looked a little stunned, looking down at Bonnie. "I... I mean... I'm not..."

"This family wants you in it. Sure, he's taking your name, but even so, you're still going to be a Hopps," Stu asserted. "You're going to be our daughter just as much as you're Meister's."

"Do you want a lot of embroidery work on the middle portion or something more simple? I could give you a faux corset pattern if you like. You need to tell me now. Like you said, weasels have special needs. That long middle will need lots of attention," Bonnie said as she measured and marked off where Princess' actual midsection was under the dress. "I'm having a lot of midsection trouble. Being in bounty is great for a relationship but I have to keep guessing how big Sylvia's belly will be. I keep trying to sell her on the bare belly look but she refuses. She's proud of the pregnancy but wants a full dress."

"Well, Bon, it's her choice. If she wants the belly covered, it stays covered," Stu stated.

"You're always so indulgent with the children," Bonnie huffed.

"Uh, could... could you put in slightly pink and slightly blue embroidery? Rivers and fish designs? Just a subtle thing, not too much darker than the white. I want Jake to be able to see it but it's not that important for the audience."

Bonnie smiled beatifically, jotting down careful notes. "Oh absolutely, dear. I'll have a sateen panel on the front and back as a base for the embroidery. Do you want all the areas we can trim done up in lace or do you you have a preference?"

Princess ran her fingers along the lowest part of her long neck, where it met her sternum, a wistful look crossing her face. "Just around the neck. But it has to be very thick, very fancy, wide so it's notable. Put in a few layers of it, folded so you can get more in there. Least weasel wedding dresses have lots of lace around the neck, to make it look like we're peering out of packed snow, looking for the hope of spring. Ma... ma had so much lace along her neck. I wish we hadn't... lost... the dress, but at least dad still has the wedding pics."

Bonnie's look went from her soft smile to a broader, more touched and tender expression. "Oh Princess... have your father bring me those photos. I'll make you look like you're standing proud after the harshest winter."

"I'll pick them up," Stu said, moving away from the window. "I need to head into town to talk to some folks. Sun love Bobby Catmull but that feline could teach bread about loafing."

"Now that's not fair, Stu. That nice Thicket doe is getting him under control," Bonnie chided, leaning in close to measure Princess' legs. "Now... shoes or no shoes? We don't tend to ask about our children's tastes, and... proclivities... but it's as much his day as yours..."

"White sheer stockings, full leg, Gazelle heels, open toe, fish leather, platform. Like the kind I wear normally but plain, with a higher lift," Princess said, very matter-of-factly. "With garters, no belt, just elastic. Leaf green, like lettuce. He'll love peeling those down."

"That Nicholas wanted stockings and garters too. Is it the new generation? I never liked things like that," Stu noted.

"Kenny and Sylvia agreed, bare legs and paws, so it's not about young folks. Just what they wanted. And don't talk about personal tastes no one understands. Every other doe in Bunnyburrow was rail thin and long as a country mile. I was thick, short and looked like someone squashed me into a vegetable box. You couldn't get enough of me..." Bonnie said with a wistful smile.

Stu came over and gingerly kissed her cheek. "Still can't, Bon. I'll be back fast as I can with those photos. I might rush through my other things but if Meister opens up a cracker barrel we might get to jawing, maybe play some cards. He cheats but he still doesn't win that much."

"I think that's why he cheats, he likes winning now and again," Princess laughed. "Go easy on him. And don't let him complain too much. He hates that I'm not there for a reason other than illness, injury or religion."

"This is religious, very religious. There's not really a rite of dress fitting, but there should be," Bonnie said with a laugh.

"I'll be sure to mention that to him while I'm down there," Stu noted, before going down the stairs.

The Hopps household was like so many in the Burrows, filled with narrow hallways that ran parallel to each other, containing the doors to the small bedrooms that allowed them to pack in all the children that they had. The home was all curves, twisting and moving sinuously, all made of polished stone, bright and cheerful. The place was an explosion of colors, walls painted up in pastels, the floor of polished stone with a long, bright rug running down the center. As they were in the above ground portion of the house the light came from multiple windows, and also included a lot of glowing tape along the bottoms of the walls and well-spaced wall sconces.

On exiting the house he was confronted by a figure that threw a pall across his joyful day. Old rituals, old traditions lived on in the Burrows, merged and syncretized with the Solaterra church. Standing by the door was a straw-stuffed figure on a post. It was a vaguely rabbit-shaped thing, with dirt and rotting vegetables clinging to it. The drawn-on face had a particular hangdog expression, looking pained and annoyed. The effigy of Rob was placed so that everyone would see it, and remember his crimes. They could punish his effigy for the shame he had brought on the family. Stu... hadn't objected when the Fiffarah had suggested putting the effigy up. He hadn't made a fuss because Rob had earned it. It was only right. But it was so stark, so blatant.

Stu took a few steps from the effigy before he caught himself almost investing emotion in Rob. Then he remembered, really remembered, what Rob had done. Violence against neighbor. Against family. Thinking about the neighbors he cared about, running in terror as flames licked all around them made him scowl. Thinking about Jake, holding Princess tight to his body, both of them supporting each other as they fled the inferno moved Stu to reach down and scoop up a clod of dirt.

He heaved the clod with all the strength his body could muster, striking the effigy solidly in the chest. The little clump of dirt sprayed out a huge puff of soil, bits raining down on the ground and lightly pattering against whatever it hit. The effigy swayed a little, still half-scowling out at the homestead.

"That's the only way you'll ever be here again," Stu huffed to the stuffed figure, his body slightly more keyed up than he had intended. It was cathartic, but draining as well. All in the best ways, of course. The figure served a real purpose beyond the traditional ceremonial one. With a final huff, Stu turned away and resolutely marched over to one of his well-aged Pride Dray pickups.

He checked his mirrors, warmed up the engine and pulled away from the family farm, settling onto the dirt road that led away into town proper. It wasn't a long trip, but it still took time. _A commute_ Judy called it, something that wasn't actually a very citified thing. She had discovered only mammals from the suburbs and Meadowlands had commutes in cars. Real city mammals took mass transit, hired cars or taxis.

It was something of a point of pride to him. He wasn't quite the kind to be happy to be a city mammal, but being compared to a suburban mammal made him feel like something more than just a country bunny. He was just like a settled homeowner with a lawn and a picket fence. He could think of himself like the mammals on TV.

He hadn't before thought about things like that. He had been a simple country farmer, just one of the big wheels in the Burrows. But sending Judy off to the big city had changed things. His mind had truly expanded. It added to him, made him better and more broad minded. He wouldn't have rejected Sylvia or Princess before, but after Nick had joined the family, after Judy had brought greater enlightenment, it made things even easier. His arms were more open and his mind had joined with them.

His thoughts about how things had changed ate up his trip, body operating on autopilot as he pulled the truck into a space near to Bobby Catmull's storefront. As he exited the truck he happened to see Deputy Buck Roeberts walking along, carrying a few sacks of groceries from _Weaselton's Wares_. Beside him was his girlfriend, Hayma Sanda the leaf muntjac. She was in her usual black-and-white maid outfit, pressed against Buck's side and eating an ice cream cone.

"Afternoon, Deputy," Stu said as he approached the storefront. "Been doing some shopping? Never knew you to go about doing your things in uniform. And afternoon to you, too, Miss Sanda."

Hayma dipped her head and gave her usual bright, broad smile that really highlighted her pearly fangs. "Good afternoon, U Hopps! I needed to purchase some groceries, and my sweet raeehcarr saw me walking along to the store. He offered to help me, and bought me an ice cream at _Almondine's Treats_. He was just escorting me back to my car. I think he said he would come back to the manor with me. He's such a wonderful buck."

Buck chuckled softly and patted his shoulder radio. "The Sheriff picked these up cheap from the ZPD surplus after that Seedcache incident. I'm always in touch with the Sheriff. She's forgiving when it comes to Miss Hayma here. She understands. That wolf of hers gets plenty of special treatment on the clock. It's just the Burrows. Nice and quiet."

"Other than Purists and arson," Stu said, with a good attempt at a light tone.

"That kinda thing is not gonna happen again. I'm vigilant, and I've got a reason to stay that way," Buck proudly asserted, pressing up securely against Hayma's side.

"He really is sweet," Hayma cooed, stretching her neck up to give Buck a kiss on the jawline, leaving a little ice cream smear.

"Your fangs kinda tickle. I like it," Buck said with a soft laugh.

Stu chuckled softly. "You young folks. Keep that up. Helps a relationship stay strong. Take it from a long-time married buck."

"Of course, Mr. Hopps. Let's get on, Hayma. I'm sure Peony wants these groceries too. Have a good day, sir," Buck said, moving along down the street to the old department car, which was parked beside a newer model Pride Draught pickup.

Stu had a smile left on his face, the lovely distraction having wiped the bad taste of the effigy out of his mouth. A small wince ran through him, when he recalled that Rob had physically assaulted Hayma, brutally. But she had held her own against him, helped put him away. A strong doe, that one. A perfect match for Deputy Roeberts.

He pushed opened the door to Bobby Catmull's shop, the chimes by the door joined by an electronic little tune that rang out around the shop. "Rigged up a new little thing there, Bobby?"

Bobby was casually lounging behind the glass counter of his shop, which still looked like some kind of music store mixed with a museum of well-used instruments. He chuckled softly, casually working on a music sheet, adding notes and erasing them as he considered them. He was dressed casually, in a short-sleeve button-up white shirt and black slacks. "Hey there, Mr. Hopps. Figured a music store should have some music when someone comes it. Loaded it up with a few hundred little jingle tunes and it plays a new one each time."

Stu nodded slowly as he approached the counter, looking Bobby over as he got close. "Looking sharp today, Bobby. I see Jenny got you polished up."

Bobby dropped a low chuckle and swept his shirt casually. "It's far from jeans and a tee, but it feels alright. I mean, it's not Moondas-go-to-convoking. Just never thought I'd be one to wear a button-up to work. Or call it going to work. She really got in my head. But, silver shine... it's so nice having that blessed doe in there..."

"A good doe burrows into your head and sets up there, that's for sure," Stu chuckled. "Did Jenny get the things that Bonnie sent? Princess didn't want anything special but Sylvia showed Bonnie some things from her home. Don't think I've seen instruments like them in your collection."

"Balalaika. It's not from around here but I'm guessing her family wasn't either, a generation or three back. Tundratown has its own particular mix of immigrants, like all parts of the big city, all with different generations. I have a few, can't say you have an instrument collection without major ones. But I never learned how to play them. I can fake it with some keyboard reprogramming. That should work. I have all the notes about how the traditional music works, especially wedding stuff. She'll have to approve, of course. It's all very usual."

"Oh Bobby..." Stu chuckled. "You'll learn, probably soon, that weddings aren't usual. I've planned lots of them, they all find a way to go a little sideways."

"You... you think so?" Bobby asked, suddenly perky and alert. He cast his eyes around and leaned in closer to Stu, voice low. "I've... you know... Jenny and I have been together for a while. She's... she's just so perfect. My folks love her, she's so talented... but she's not doing much to let me know."

Stu considered things for a long moment, drumming his blunt claws on the glass counter. "Wait... have you been waiting for her to make a move?"

"Cougars do that. We're ambush proposers. And since the lady is the one who usually has something of a shakeup it's a tradition that she asks. I've been getting my surprised face ready," Bobby said, clapping his paws to the side of his face and dropping his jaw in a slightly exaggerated manner.

Stu let out a hearty laugh and patted the feline on the shoulder. "Young'un... I have three children now in Outsider relationships. Probably lots more waiting in the side-acres. First thing you learn, every mammal is different. You gotta know their culture. I know just enough to realize not all deer does are hard-charging head-tossers like Sheriff Nikostytär. Far from it, sometimes. You know Jenny's a sensitive doe. She wouldn't just ask you. For mule deer like her, the buck usually asks, and offers his culled antlers. I don't think you need to do that part."

Bobby slowly rubbed the back of his neck with a sheepish look on his face. "I know it's kind of the town joke that I'm kind of lazy... but this doesn't help me at all. I should have been a bit more on top of that."

"We all say it with love, Bobby," Stu said with a smile. "You might be a layabout but there isn't a wedding, a birthday or a funeral that we don't have you around. You kind of grew into a very important mammal."

"Well, that's kind of you, Mr. Hopps. Guess... I need to buy some antlers on the internet and see how Jenny's surprised face is," Bobby said with a chuckle.

"Not sure if you're joking... been a long time since I was a young jokester. You young folks... I'll tell Sylvia to come by and see what ya came up with."

"I'll have some samples for her when she gets here. I know when Travis and Jaguar close up. Anything else you needed, Mr. Hopps?"

"That should cover it for now. I'm just in town for a quick look at some of the matters affecting these weddings. Have a good day, Bobby!"

"Have a good one, Mr. Hopps!"

Stu made his way back onto the street and casually strolled his way down the street, fingers hooked in the straps of his overalls, billed cap bobbing on his head. Judy had told him about the many streets in Zootopia. It wasn't just a concrete block full of a tangle of the same ribbons of asphalt. She loved to talk about all the different places. The fresh-poured concrete and repaved roads in some segments of Happytown, the bamboo-lined streets in Tanukitown, even the perpetually snowy lanes and the ice-flow traffic in Tundratown. He vaguely recalled his long-ago trip to the big city, and that did seem to be what he recalled. But there was nothing quite so pleasant as the old pebble cobbles for a sidewalk and the well-aged asphalt of the main drag, about the only paving in Bunnyburrow.

He pushed open the door to _Weaselton's Wares_ , looking around for anyone else. It looked to be empty for the moment, with Meister behind the counter as ever. "Welcome to Weaselton's Ware's. We're not..."

"We've all memorized the speech, Meister. But it's good to have some traditions that stick," Stu said, cutting off the words.

"I try to get Princess to do it. She's good about it but she keeps that sarcastic tone. I swear, kits these days," Mesiter said with a shake of his head.

"Oh yeah, I said it just today. Bonnie was less than sympathetic. She's always been good with youngsters. Where's that son of mine? He's usually up here working too hard."

Meister chuckled and shook his head. "Never thought I'd hear a farm rabbit talk about working too hard."

"You work to do what you need to. Working too hard is going overboard just because you can. I thought he was just trying to impress you. Then I thought he was trying to impress Princess. Now I know he just shows off."

"That's fine by me. I want a hard worker coming into the family. He's out in the shop truck getting a load of nuts and fruit from the Seedcache place. Probably end up selling most of it to Gideon. He's glad to pay a little more if he can save the travel time. Doesn't want to spend the gas and add the wear to his van."

"I'd be insulted if I wasn't well aware of what Peony can sell him that I know we can't. More products for him, more delicious treats. I think we both know how good that is," Stu said, patting his rotund belly.

Meister patted his own stomach and grinned. "You can't see it, but I love me some baked goodies. Weasels carry our weight oddly. We're tube-like unless we get pregnant or too fat to be proper. Princess will figure all that out. Probably quickly. I'm surprised she's not going in bounty too."

"Jake's probably more careful. Or she's not as... usual. Don't wanna tell tales about you daughter..."

"I have an inkling. But don't worry, _pop-pop_. She's eager for kittens. You'll have a pile of noodly grandkittens before too long. Well, maybe. No matter what, they'll be adorable."

"I'm actually hoping they'll be noodly. We need some long, tall workers on the farm, and we can't wait on Zeke and Pepper to have kits," Stu chuckled, sliding up to the front counter.

"You know you'd never hire outside the family, I know you don't have your kids work on other farms, I hear the Demilops talk about that."

"But I'm still a good buck, I'll help them out if they start to fall on hard times," Stu huffed.

"Never said you weren't. I wouldn't let my Princess anywhere near your family if I didn't think you were good. Blessed by the silver glow, that's you."

"Don't give me a swelled head, I have too many hats to replace them now," Stu said with a grin. "I came by for some serious wedding business. First of all, Bonnie wants you to know this is a religious matter. Her fitting that dress on Princess is as holy as any sunny day and ripe field. Or a starry night. And if you disagree, you take it up with her."

"I'm not going near your wife, she'll tie me up in knots. I don't mind that she's getting fitted. It's her day too. I don't mind that she's off for something this important."

"Speaking of important matters... I don't mean to bring up things you'd rather have kept out of mind, but Princess mentioned you had photos of your wife at the wedding. She wants Bon to get the lace right, maybe get some other details just right. Her dress, her orders, you know how it goes."

Meister stiffened, hands gripping the counter for a moment, before he slowly relaxed, breath blown out as his shoulders dropped. "Sorry about that. It's been a while but I still..."

Stu reached out and gently patted Meister on the shoulder. "No amount of time could get Bon out of my head. Honey's never gonna be gone, and you don't want her out of there, I can tell."

"She's there forever. The moon always shines on her memory and I'm glad. But... yeah... we lost the dress in the fire but we still have the wedding album. I should have had that ready for her. I knew she was going to want to have some of the details on her own dress."

"Not trying to be a hassle. She just mentioned it and I was gonna be here."

"No, I get it. I actually have them here in the store. I can go grab that before you go. I assume you have to be off to other things."

Stu looked over to the old clock above the counter and gave a languid shrug. "Nothing that important." He glanced around quickly, eyes shifting around to check if anyone was there. "Break open the cracker barrel and get out the cards. What Bon doesn't know won't hurt me."

o o o

"We should get frequent mileage points or something," Nick said, watching the scenery move by at variable speeds. The near power poles and trees whizzed along while the spreads of farmland and hills moved more sedately. He was standing beside Judy, both of them looking out the train window. "We seem to head to the sticks more than I ever thought I would."

Judy sighed and leaned her head against Nick's arm. "It's two hours one-way, a nice rest at the house and two hours back, relaxed and happy. Is that really so bad? Plus you're exaggerating. We don't go back there as often as I'd like."

"I mean, we could live there but the commute would be rough, and pricey," Nick said with his usual deadpan snark.

"I mean... they sell passes. And I really checked out the prices. They're not too bad..." Just said, looking up at Nick with a doe-eyed gaze and bright smile.

"My mother likes seeing us, too," Nick said with a small smile. "And the chief kinda likes it when we come in close to on time."

"We're only late because you go slow and like getting under his hide," Judy huffed, frowning and scrunching her brows.

"It's pretty funny..." Nick said, leaning down and breaking the wrinkling with a soft kiss, Judy shaking her head with a sigh and settling against Nick.

"I guess... oh you're such a bad influence on me, dumb fox," Judy sighed.

"Sly bunnies need to learn how to be a little more gray than good bunnies," Nick replied, gently stroking her under the chin.

"I'm good and sly," Judy cooed, lifting her head and leaning into the comforting stroking.

Nick stroked Judy's chin and throat slowly, smiling down at her. His thumb caressed over her cheek, pressing slightly firmly against the ridge of her cheekbone, feeling it in the minutest detail. He had chosen the cheek that still had the small, faint scars down it. They were minor, but present, a souvenir of childhood trouble, yet also a sign of adult change. "I wish I could keep this up forever, Carrots, but I wanna get out to the club car for a snack."

Judy gave a breathy chuckle and softly kissed Nick's pawpad. "Go, go get something. And bring me back a little snack."

"What's the magic word?"

"Tied," Judy said, flirtatiously, placing another soft kiss on his pawpad.

Nick went wide-eyed, slightly stumbling over his own paws as she scooted off down the corridor of the observation car, through the upper tier of the next car, and into the following one. On top half of it led to the door to the next car, while stairs led down to a largely open space to the cafe. A single female llama in a nice uniform stood behind the counter, while in the alcove near here were numerous refrigerators and a few microwaves at several heights.

"Welcome, sir! What'll you have?" The llama asked in a bright and cheerful tone, with just a hint of an accent.

"Gotta love Zootrak professionalism. I'm having a cogburger, a bag of crickets, a vegetable torta, and spicy greens salad," Nick said, pulling the said items from the various fridges.

"Alright, that'll be..." The llama began.

"Excuse me, but we were here first," someone brusquely stated with his own version of a vague accent. Two foxes appeared behind Nick, from the seating area. Both were wearing severe gray wool suits, the tod with pants and the vixen in a long skirt. Both stood slightly shorter than Nick, around bunny height, and had pristine, well-conditioned puffy white fur.

"Sir, this gentlemammal has his selections and I rang him up already..." The llama explained.

"We needed to think. We have thought. Leave aside this scruffy russki, he's just a bolshy. His turn will come when it's proper," the tod huffed.

"Let him go. I can wait a little bit," Nick said, casually stepping back to allow the arctic foxes to make a selection.

"A wise choice," the vixen said, equally as imperious as her mate. She took her time, running her fingers along the refrigerators until she pulled out a tuna salad container and brought it to the counter. "Perhaps this is one russki that understands proper tiers of mammals."

"I understand plenty of things," Nick replied, keeping his tone light, his usual smarmy tone, with a dash of the unctuous obsequiousness that allowed him to slime his way though the allegedly superior.

The tod nodded sharply and picked up his own pack of tuna salad, as well as a box of locust and honey clusters, taking his wallet out and tapping his card against the register. "You meet such ruffians on these horrid excursions."

"Your receipt, sir," the llama said icily, muttering under her breath, _"Cabron..."_

The tod waved off the receipt and huffed. "I don't need trash. Throw that away."

"Yes, sir..." the llama said. She subtly waved off Nick's money, winking in the direction of the distracted arctic foxes, lightly tapping the register with a hoof cap.

"Yes indeed... love that Zootrak professionalism. Maybe I will buy a railpass. This is some really, really good service," Nick said with a bright smile, casually tapping his ZPD ID against the register.

"And thank you for your service to the city, Officer," the llama said with a naturally crooked-toothed smile.

"Hey, back atcha..." Nick said, peering at the llama's nametag. "Concha."

"Conchita," she said with a soft laugh.

Nick quickly flashed his wedding ring. "Hope you find someone very, very good for you."

Conchita revealed a modestly elaborate small necklace of obsidian and gold. "Zorro también..."

"We reds are really, really doing alright for ourselves. Don't know who he is but he's lucky," Nick said with a flick of his fingers in a breezy salute to Conchita.

"It's always the same classes who get on so well," the arctic vixen said with a small hint of a sniff. "I wish we could do something of this coming event."

"I gave up trying to control her. If you wish to persist, you can fail over again, as before," the arctic tod huffed.

"Our own daughter, betraying us," the vixen grunted, viciously attacking her tuna salad with a ferocious will.

"Try to be reasonable. Maybe she won't go through with it," the tod offered, keeping his head down and eating with exaggerated sedateness.

"She's pregnant. And in that... backward place they care about going through with such things. Division Children are still possible. That pop starlet ruined everything for propriety and the old way of keeping disobedient children properly distant."

"Not my place to say, but you need to just let her be," Nick casually said, having been slow-walking to eavesdrop.

"You're right, russki! It is not your place!" The vixen hissed. "Our matters are far beyond your tiny, poor, lowly mind! You do not speak to your betters, russki! Leave belyy to our higher sphere!"

"It Is our family, not yours. Leave, bolshy, leave," the tod yipped.

"Hey, hey, no need to get snappy. But this isn't the old world. Zootopia has a lot of divisions, a lot of them. A lot of them. But a fox is a fox, except for Councilor Fanak. That's it. If you're not her, you're just another vulpine to the city," Nick said, with increasing bitterness.

"How dare you?! We are no mere foxes, no russki! Our lives are not your concern, you are beneath us!" The vixen hissed.

"Do not shame us by going to his level! Be quiet and calm, Olga," the tod whispered harshly. "You're letting him turn you just as lowly and feral."

"Feral? Oh feral... ever seen a mammal go savage? I have, up close. You don't know anything about anything you're saying," Nick said with a rising calm, trying to get back his smarmy charm.

"You're the one that knows nothing," Olga insisted, sniffing sharply and turning up her snout. "You are not worth speaking to."

"You wanna mess up a relationship, go right ahead. She'd be better off without you," Nick said, back to his usual smiling disdain.

"You... you dare judge us? Such disrespect from one so low. Go away, go away," the tod snorted.

"Nick, can't I take you anywhere?" Judy's voice chided from the top of the stairs, slowly coming down from the upper area. "I knew it shouldn't take this long, even with a line."

"Aw, Carrots, you can't trust me? You know I'm reliable," Nick said, grin growing wide and sly.

"I can rely on you to do a lot of things..." Judy said, with a grin. "This isn't usually one of them. What happened?"

"Zayats..." the vixen muttered under her breath. "How many do we need to deal with?"

"It's Bunnyburrow. You have more to come," the tod said, evenly.

"These lovely arctics were just talking about disowning a child for not entering a Division Family. They believe in family values and hiding children," Nick said, his light tone never changing.

"Dishonest russki. Of course you would lie," the vixen muttered.

"Hey, hey now, there's no need for that. We don't need that kind of talk in a civilized place," Judy insisted. "Nick... if you didn't misinterpret something then it's... it's sad but it's not your business."

"Nor your place to judge, zayats," the tod huffed, lifting his muzzle. "You may have status, but you still may not talk down to us. In Tundratown we have some status."

Judy took a moment to think, nose twitching and one foot thumping rapidly on the ground. "Is that so? Well, I don't recognize you. I think I'll ask about you the next time I have a spa day in Tundratown. My friend Fru knows all the important mammals in Tundratown. Maybe you know her, if you're so important. Fru-Fru Big?"

The smug looks on the faces of the arctic foxes fell instantly, mouths open as they ate their way through Judy's speech. Their pupils went completely round in internal, reflexive fear. Both stood suddenly and dashed off, leaving half-eaten containers of tuna salad.

"Well, I guess they really do know something about Tundratown," Nick noted, helpfully tossing the containers into the trash. "Sorry I dragged you into that. No idea why they're on the express if they hate leaving their fancy digs in Tundratown."

"Even snobs travel. They're miserable, but they do," Judy said with a sigh. "It's okay. We actually know good folks with status. We won't have to deal with them anymore, so let's just go back to the observation car and eat."

The trip passed uneventfully, Judy and Nick quietly eating, keeping their area clean and leaning against each other while watching the passing scenes. They made their way from the observation car to the nearest passenger car, standing by the door as the detached car was moved to the arrival platform, the engine shunted off to the roundhouse to turn around for the return trip.

"Judy! Nick!" Bonnie rushed over to embrace her daughter tightly, Stu following close behind her.

"Pops, good to see you again," Nick said, turning a firm handshake from Stu to a sudden hug. "Always good to get out to our second home."

"Well! Good to see you too, son!" Stu said breathlessly, his portly form squeezed rather harder than he had expected out of Nick's wiry frame.

"So glad you came out to get us. Not that we need the ride, we walk father on the beat than the distance to the homestead," Judy said, leaning against Nick once she had let go of her mother.

"Well, you have luggage this time. Can't just rely on the things you leave here with the extra time off," Bonnie said. "Besides, we have other concerns..."

From out of small crowd of mammals emerged the overtly pregnant form of Sylvia Arctica, happily rushing toward two figures that had just emerged from the train. The arctic tod and arctic vixen in severe gray wool suits, still slightly shaken with a thin veneer of their huffing superiority applied once more. "Mama, papa!" She cried out while grabbing them up in a big hug.

Nick and Judy looked at the three in stunned disbelief, then quickly to each other. "Well..." Nick said, in his usual light tone. "At least Duke isn't the worst relative we have now..."


	2. Re: Union, Part 2

I do not own Zootopia, that belongs to Disney. This a fan work made solely for the sake of amusement.

 **The Burrows**

 **Chapter Two: Re: Union, Part Two**

 **By: Gabriel LaVedier**

Judy and Nick continued to stare at each other as they rode in the back of the pickup with the luggage, which included several substantial cases, which seemed improbable for the somewhat modestly sized foxes. They were silent for the most part as they bounced around on the uneven roads of the Burrow.

"Did you just yell at a new set of in-laws?" Judy asked, in as quiet voice as she could.

"Now... I didn't yell. Did you just threaten a new set of in-laws with getting iced by Mr. Big?" Nick asked back with his usual huckster smile.

"I didn't threaten, I just mentioned his name," Judy replied with a huff.

"Sly bunny indeed," Nick said, slipping an arm around Judy's back and pulling her closer. "How does it feel having snobs in the family?"

"Nick, my father is a big buck in the Burrows, he gave me a fox taser and fox mace because of how he felt about foxes and he wasn't too kind about Mr. Weaselton, though I think that was just because he actually lost last time they played cards. Not important. I come from a big, important family."

"Carrots... you were very proud, but you're not snobs," Nick said. "These are genuine snobs. You saw it. They believe arctics are better than reds, and told me so, very loudly."

"You know Nick... before I went to Zootopia I wouldn't have believed you. Predators were predators, prey were prey. Then I met... everyone. It's... why?"

"When you're that low, when you cling that desperately, you take anything you can get. You make every scrap of status count. If the Tundratowners find you more useful than the rest of the city finds a red fox, then you get proud of that and let it make your head swell up like a balloon. If you can be sly but make it look good, you get elected over and over again," Nick said, leaning down to kiss Judy on the head. "It doesn't have to make sense, like separating sheep and goats. It's just something we live with."

Judy snuggled in closer to Nick, securely nuzzling herself against his neck. "I'm sorry this is going to be awkward. But please try to be civil. I know you will be it just... just feels necessary to say it, for my peace of mind."

"Hey, come on, fluff, I've been snowing mammals all my life. I can pretend Olga Oligarch there is my best friend. And her husband, to be named later, is just as close. We won't have any problems at all. Promise on all the things that matter. The moon, the sun, mom. You," Nick tenderly said, kissing Judy's head again.

"A big promise. I think I can trust that one," she replied, both of them quietly snuggling through the rest of the trip.

The truck pulled up to the front of the house, Nick and Judy hopping out of the back, while the Arcticas, Sylvia and the Hoppses got out of the cramped cab. "So this is the place," Mr. Arctica said, eying the large, rustic home.

"Gregor," Olga said in a slightly chiding tone. "It's a fine place. The property is large and theirs, and this home is expansive."

"It's bigger underground. It always is around here," Stu said with a chuckle. "We've got a good spread around here. I assure you, your daughter is marrying into a fine family."

"Yes... and your son is doing the same, I assure you," Gregor said with pride. He regarded the vegetable-and-dirt-covered effigy of Rob with judgmental eyes. "What... interesting décor you have here. Unique to the zayats."

Stu coughed into his fist, and escorted the foxes past the figure. "Yes. Local tradition that the church supports. It's to represent those who are gone, and best left forgotten."

"Is this something we should be concerned about? Family things that must be disclosed? Something that should not be hidden?" Olga asked, with increasing interest and narrower eyes.

"Are you kidding? You wanna hear a long, boring story about a little figure decorating the outside of the homestead?" Nick asked, laughing casually. "We have much better entertainment around this place. Ever been to a barn dance? Or a barn raising? It's a great time around here, even in places that don't involve barns. Like _Almondine's_ the ice cream place."

"Exactly! Once you get settled in we can take you around to see about all the great things in the Burrows," Judy quickly added.

"You kids can show off the Burrows. We've got a lot of things to do. Sylvia, I'll need you here to continue the fitting. I think I finally have the midsection right," Bonnie said, opening a closet at the entryway and taking out her tailor apron.

"Your mother offered you a perfectly good, and very traditional dress," Gregor said.

"No offense papa, but you had no idea what size I am. And this..." Sylvia pointed at her belly with a grin, "Is not traditionally sized in any way. Arctics are small, bunnies are small, how did I get this?"

"Sweetie, you've either got twins or triplets or more, and we really should get that looked at... or, well... you've seen Zeke O'Pogo and Bongo Waters. If there's just one, you'll get one like them," Bonnie said with a grin.

"So many... grandkits, perhaps," Olga said with a wide-pulled smile.

"Ouch," Nick said softly to Judy, wincing sharply. "That smile's so fake it would make a game show host blush."

"I'm not even that good at this, but... wow. I should feel insulted she doesn't want to be part of this family," Judy whispered back.

"Tell the truth, Carrots, do you want her to be? Would you want to be part of hers?"

"Yes," Judy said, perhaps more firmly than she intended. "I may not think much of her attitude but family is bigger than petty concerns. It's about Sylvia and Kenny, and she's just... well she's like the candied wasabi you get on Winter Solstice. You don't blame whoever gave it to you. You eat a piece, thank them and move on."

"Hmmm, yeah... I could see her as candied wasabi," Nick said, stroking his chin and looking at Olga.

Judy and Nick went to get the bags, saving other family members or Stu from doing it, knowing full well the Arcticas wouldn't bother with their own luggage. "Jude, Nick, you know you don't need to..." Stu began.

"Hey, basic police training requires us to tote even heavier and we need to be tested regularly because Bogo needs us in top shape," Judy said, doing her best to carry along one of the heavy cases the Arcticas had brought.

"It's why you marry in bigger mammals, for the carrying capacity," Nick quipped, carrying in the other case, having dropped his and Judy's luggage near the door. "Where to?"

"They're going above-ground, up the ramp, left at the fifth hall, third door. A nice guest room," Stu said.

"Just follow them, they'll get you there," Bonnie said with a smile.

"Yes. Yes, this seems appropriate," Gregor said with a sly smile as he walked behind Nick and Judy.

Olga nudged her husband sharply and looked at him with a little moue. "Surely the home is more than appropriate. It's a lovely, large, very impressive home with land. Their land. We room with boyars, here."

"Mama, that's not something they really care about," Sylvia said, shaking her head. "Our family hasn't seen the old country in generations, not even dirt from there. We don't care about land-owning boyars anymore. The Hoppses don't even have any political power."

"Yet," Nick said, just loud enough to be heard.

"Nick, that's not a thing. I know daddy, even if he told the Sheriff and Deputy Roeberts that he was going to I don't think that's going to happen," Judy asserted.

"What's this now? Politics?" Gregor asked, ears perking.

"They unseated one of the supervisors for being part of a Purist cult that did some bad, bad things," Nick explained. "The Sheriff and the deputy that investigated wanted him to run to fill the seat when election season rolls around. Carrots, I really think he'll do it. Why not? He was mad enough to do it and he's got the time for it."

Shifty looks of indeterminate amounts of calculation passed between Olga and Gregor while Sylvia just nodded. "I agree. I think he's going to do it. He'll win, too. He has two of the three Burrows sewn up, what with Peony being on his side. And given, well, me, you and Princess, I think Predburrow's a go."

Nick chuckled, opening up the door they had been directed to.

Opening the door revealed a plain but cozy country room, small but nicely decorated. The bed was the majority of the furniture, perfect for couples, covered in a colorful quilt with pillows with greenish-brown shams. A small closet was set on one wall and a squat long dresser stood under the window. "We have lots of rooms, but... a lot of them look like this. It makes it easier to build and design a place," Judy explained.

"Yes... yes... this... suffices," Gregor said with all the sincerity he could muster.

"Well... that's an extremely acceptable critique," Nick said with his smarmy charm turned up to high, earning him a nudge from Judy.

"Don't mind him, he's hard to please no matter what's happening. I don't know, maybe he's doing it on purpose, but it's just his way," Sylvia laughed, hugging her father tightly.

"Do not speak of your father that way, you make him seem willful and contrary," Olga chided.

"Uh, mama... he _is_ willful and contrary, we all know it. It's so obvious the folks in Tundratown just kind of politely ignore it. That's just what they do. We're among family. I think they can tell too," Sylvia laughed.

"What? No... no! Sir, you're just expressing a very honest opinion," Nick said, smiling.

"Russki..." Gregor slightly snarled, before a sharp check from Olga made him lift his ears from their partial fold and his saccharine smile to pull wider than a country mile. "Yes. Thank you for being understanding. See, he knows."

"Hey, we understand a lot. So, we know how train travel can be. We're going to get our bags, settle in and freshen up, then we can do the sightseeing thing," Nick said with a cheery tone.

"Are you sure? I mean, we don't know them that well yet..." Judy began.

"Perfect time, don't you think?" Nick deftly countered.

Judy gave it some thought, foot tapping rapidly on the ground. She snapped her fingers and gave an unpolished, modestly sultry look. "It's her family. Sylvia should be the one to show them around. She knows her way around, and if not Kenny can help. Besides, on the train we talked about what we would do, when you got the food. Remember the magic word?"

Nick snapped to attention, grinning wide, ears sharp, tail slightly bristled in a manner other foxes could read as happy and anticipatory. "Folks, it's been great, but Judy's right. You should have your daughter take you around, and have Kenny there so you can bond. Sorry to be off so fast but it's **not** personal," Nick said, with strange emphasis.

Sylvia watched the two go and shrugged a bit. "Their loss. I'll tell Mrs. Hopps to hold off on the fitting for a bit. I'm going to take you around to all the best places in Bunnyburrow, and Kenny can help. I, uh, kind of need it..." She patted her full belly and laughed. "He helped make it, he can help me deal with it."

Olga and Gregor looked at each other, trading a look of hidden dismay over her eagerness and attachment to the rabbit. "O-oh good. Yes. It will be good to meet my new son-in-law..." Gregor said with no passion.

o o o

Elsewhere in the Hopps homestead Jake was enjoying a rare bit of time off from the store, taking the chance to relax and enjoy a bit of reading. Given that his future included running a store with his future wife he had decided to pick up a book on running a business. One of the newer works out was the one he had gotten, by one of the Zootopia city councilors, Cecil Seedsworth of Little Rodentia. _Big Advice For Small Businesses_. The dedication was one of the selling points. _To Gerhilde, my wolf, who only did what was necessary to live in the world we made. To my children Adalwolfa, Gunilla and Mathilde, your parents love you and Division will never be part of your future_. An Outsider with professional business advice. It was exactly what he needed.

"Knock-knock, bro!" A chipper voice same from the door, Kenny standing there with his usual bright, sincere smile. He was in a light blue button-up short-sleeve shirt with a sequined bow tie. He was wearing dark blue slacks with a green cloth belt.

"Wow. Kenny... Kenny I get that Tenders dress colorfully but the congregation doesn't need to do it too," Jake said with a smile. "It's quite an outfit. Guess you're going out with Sylvia. And she doesn't mind."

"Oh, Sylvia's really nice. She loves my style. She even bought me this tie," Kenny proudly said, pulling the tie and adjusting it. "We're going out with her parents, to see the sights. She wants me along in case she misses anything or there are some hidden gems I haven't shown her yet on our dates. There are a few places. We spent a lot of time in her cabin..."

"I've seen the belly. I could guess that you spent a lot of time there. You don't seem like the kind to hammer out a quickie in the back of a delivery truck on the clock."

"Princess is pretty bold," Kenny noted. "Good that you found a jill that makes you happy and all honey-glowy."

"That church of yours really put that smile of yours to work," Jake chuckled. "Was there something you needed to tell me, besides that Sylvia lets you go out the door dressed like that?"

"Oh! Right! Pop-Pop told me he wanted to talk to you. He's over in the sitting area in the greenhouse. He asked me about the tie too. I think he was impressed Sylvia was buying me things."

Jake sighed, slowly shutting his book and pulling himself off of his bed. "Surprised he didn't say that she's white because she's some kind of ghost."

"He said she looked really nice. He hadn't seen a fox like her in decades and she must be nice if she could fit in to the family," Kenny replied.

"That's new..." Jake mumbled, stretching out and standing up. He was casually attired in jeans and a tee shirt, slightly faded but still showing an advertisement for _Weaselton's Wares_. "Thanks, Kenny. Have fun with Sylvia and her parents. How are they?"

"So serious! They look kind of sour a lot, stand up really straight, bristle their tails, flick their ears. They talk really quietly with each other and get heated. I hope they're alright. Family should stick together."

"Yup. They sound like city mammals. Nick used to be like that but he's a Burrows tod down to the core now. Judy worked on him. But she had... special access. Sylvia might take longer, but they'll come around."

"Oh I know they will. Have a good talk!" Kenny cheerfully said, making his way down the sloping hall of the house.

Jake rolled his shoulders and slow-walked his way down the hall himself. He wasn't exactly enthusiastic. His quip about Pop-Pop had been a bit unfair. The old buck had never been so rough, but he hadn't exactly been broad-minded. He was no Purist or even strongly hateful. But he had a lot of bitterness, and showed it off more than a few times. He was acceptable, but just. The oldest generations of the Burrows were more or less like that.

He made his way out of the house, having missed Kenny and the Arcticas. He just barely had a chance to wave to them as they drove off. A quick look at the Arcticas showed off exactly the kind of sour look and harsh whispering Kenny had mentioned. City mammals. They'd learn, hopefully quickly.

He made his way around the back side of the house where the modestly large greenhouse was located. It wasn't part of the commercial aspect of the farm, not really. Bonnie used much of the space for growing cooking spices and herbs, which did require a bit of space considering all the food she had to season. Some flowers were also seasonally grown, in relatively small batches, which did incidentally get sold around Harvesttide and Winter Solstice. Tucked away into one corner, surrounded by some collection of flowers and herbs, was an area that caught a good deal of sunshine, with plenty of good, moist air that was warm and healthful. A homey setup had been placed there. A little rug of two-tone brown and green fabric was on the ground in front of a comfortable armchair, with an old radio on a side table. A wooden chair sat facing the armchair, for guests.

Sat down in the armchair was Jake's grandfather, the buck everyone just called Pop-Pop. The square-jawed, bespectacled old rabbit was slightly leaned back, basking in the warm glow of the slanting sunbeams, one hand on a walking stick, the other lightly tapping the armrest in time with the music coming from the old radio. As usual he was listening to the one last station that played the old swingtime tunes that he remembered, the big bands and jazzy bop beats. While the age of it made sense, no one in the family quite understood why he loved what used to be called, in a derogatory way, Chomper Music. His favorite bands were mostly if not all predator-based.

Jake quietly took a seat in the little wooden chair, watching his grandfather enjoying his music, a smile on his face that was hard to describe. In all his education the one word that he had come across was ephemeral. It was there but wasn't, but it was so very real while it was there.

A soft clearing of the throat made Pop-Pop's eyes snap open, body tensing until he noticed that one of his many grandchildren was sitting before him. He slowly relaxed and reached over to turn down the radio. "Ahh, Jake... I see your brother got you. Good for him. I worried about him. Mmm, now and then. You always worry about your offspring, and their offspring. No one is ever good enough. But, some... they're different..."

"I... can I go? I was reading an important work about business..." Jake said, discomfort giving energy to his attitude.

"Sit down! I know what you think. I know what you all think," the old rabbit huffed. "You think I'm going to talk about his fox, about Judy's fox. I said all I was going to. And you know why. Just like that Big Daddy Dreyson. I said what I said for the same reason he said it. We just have traditions. But we don't hold it forever. Or so strong..."

Jake slowly went back down to the chair. The story was widespread in Bunnyburrow, of how Big Daddy Dreyson had been antagonistic toward Travis, for being a burrower. Not a predator. A burrower. And then only because it was how things work. He had folded instantly when Ermintrude insisted she was going to marry Travis. Her brothers had flipped just as instantly. "I... yeah, I remember. I should have seen it. Sorry, Pop-Pop..."

"Don't apologize so much, youngster. We all get things wrong now and then. We all forgive an honest mistake or two in a family. Honest mistakes," he emphasized, looking at Jake firmly. "You know we're never forgiving your brother."

"He doesn't deserve it. Sometimes I don't feel like holding Princess because I remember fixing up the slashes Miss Sanda gave him with her tusks..." Jake rumbled.

"No, you touch her, you do it often as she wants. And you go down that aisle. You go down that aisle or else we'll set up your effigy next to his and pretend you're dead! I'll make sure!" Pop-Pop said with a surprising amount of force, partially risen from his chair, eyes wide, breath huffing after his short tirade.

Jake was stunned. He had never seen his grandfather get into that kind of fury. Even his tradition-induced short rants had been more wind than actual fury. "I-I... I couldn't... I worked for months for her engagement ring. I had to prove myself to her. I had to be a good earner. I need to work hard for her. We're going to own the store. I'm going to be a Weaselton."

Pop-Pop slowly lowered himself back to the armchair, both hands resting on his walking stick for extra stability. "You're proud of that, aren't you? Jake Weaselton, co-owner of the general store, proud as parsnips husband of a fuzzy noodle. You're gonna hold her, gonna love her all your life, all her life. We'll have a pile of noodly grandkittens high as the silo. Have them be the next generation of proud Hopps farmers."

The whole matter was quite the conundrum for Jake. He knew his grandfather was very much a bunny-standard family buck. But his traditional rambles had always been part of life. About foxes, and tree-critters, hares, predators in general. But... "Pop-Pop... you've never said one thing about weasels or anything like them. Not one. All my life you've been gruff at squirrels and foxes and hares and all of that... but you loved Princess from the first time you heard about us. Why..?"

The old buck sank back further in his chair, almost seeming to deflate as he let out a long, low sigh. "Sit back, young'un. There's a lot of remembering happening. But you don't need to know it all. Just... why. Why, especially, I'm glad you young folks live now. Everything was better back then, no mistake. Except... except..."

" _Back then, the Burrows was a lot like it is now. We don't change much, and we like it. We had our problems, we always do. But we had friendly folks then, just like now. A Weaselton still ran the general store and we all talked about that. We had some transplants from the big city but the train didn't run so fast or so often, so we didn't have as many. We had them though. Some of those families stayed on for the long haul. Some of them didn't. They just didn't._

" _One of those families, though, were the Lybica family. Northern Striped Polecats, very different from the zorilla, and I expect you to know the difference if you want to be a proper Hopps. They moved here from Sahara Square as I recall, wanted a fresh start in a green place that wasn't Meadowlands. Big ol' pops who did anything he could, mostly metal work and repairs. Mama, who cleaned houses and baked. This was before we had that nice Ovine fellow that took care of all the baking we need. And Toni. Twisty Toni Macaroni. She liked that. It always made her laugh. She came here when we were both about ten. But that's not why I'm telling you this. I could go on for days about Toni. My friend Toni. No. That's for me. But just... one night. We weren't ten then. We were both sixteen. Sixteen._

" _I remember that night, and I always will. The sky was clear after a week of rain. It was why I drove the RZO Zipper down to the Lybica property and invited Toni to go cruising. She had to beg her parents to let her go. They knew what a buck and jill might get up to on a cruise. But they still let her go._

" _The whole black ink expanse of the sky was full of stars. It was even darker back then, not so many electric lights. We could see them all, spread out like a billion candles. The moon was big and round and full, shining bright. They were Selenic folks so a big moon made her extra happy. I think that's why I chose that night. It made her happy. I'd do anything to make her happy._

" _We made our way out to that place out around Hedgehog Copse, you young folks still know it, but it was even less developed then. Nothing around but grass and trees. And Toni and me. I had a spread, nothing much. Some Hopps produce and some canned tuna I had picked up. She spread it on a zwieback and loved it. They... they didn't get much money and didn't always have fish. We were there, on the picnic blanket, looking up at the stars, being close. Feeling good. Right. I had brought a newfangled transistor radio and tuned in to our favorite station. They weren't afraid of what the folks back then called Chomper Music, and I supported them until they went off the air. Still have one of their microphones from the old studio._

" _She was the one that kissed me. I was so nervous I would have sat there until the sun came up. But she turned her head, and she kissed me. I stroked over the stripes on her face, that special kind of striping that makes her sort of polecat what it is. We melted into each other. I remember everything. Every minute. Us there on the blanket, by the Zipper, under the light of the moon that made me feel, for just that night, what those Selenics feel. Loving each other while Fangs McLupus and his Swingers played on and on._

" _We nearly went until dawn. I... I think I wanted the sun to shine over us. The fingers of light got us up, and we had to leave. The batteries in the transistor were dead, and we just packed up in silence. We knew it was special. We knew that we had been right. We knew._

" _ **WE** knew."_

Pop-Pop sighed again, looking older than ever, his eyes distant, moist. It wasn't the usual rheumy look of age. Tears were held behind his last vestiges of stoic strength. "There were no strong-minded singer ladies back then. Your sister wasn't even a twinkle in anyone's eye. The city ignored Division Families. We didn't want them here. The cowards. Pappy give me one desolation-delivered whoopping and a screaming rant. No preds. Nothing like a noodle. No Twisty Toni Macaroni. I had to stop. I had to stop. I... chose to stop. Because he made me. Coward. She didn't deserve me. Not being the scared bunny I was.

"She got the message. He made sure she saw him standing in front of the property glaring, saw me... turn away. She didn't have any long-eared noodles. She just didn't stay in the Burrows. Don't know what became of her. I just know her momma and daddy hated me until their dying days. I was a kind buck. I picked up their hate and kept it.

"Don't misunderstand... I never loved your grandmother one whit less than it seemed. Sol Invictus, I did love her, so much. Some days I thought... what if I could Burrow with her and Toni? Wouldn't that have been a dream? Just a dream. I wasn't strong enough to make it happen. Took your sister and her singer friend to do it. Took them to make sure you could marry a Weaselton, be a Weaselton. Jake... every mammal has regrets in this life, hopefully not so many, and hopefully none too deep. I have one, long as a country mile and deep as the Earth itself. I never, in all my life, regretted making love to Toni that night. It was beautiful. It was wonderful. I regret one thing most of all. My weakness, my cowardice, my failure as a mammal. I didn't marry Toni. And I'll live with that until the Earth embraces me. I only hope it accepts a coward like me."

Silence fell like a heavy curtain, in the sun-drenched warmth and humid environment, heady with the scent of herbs and flowers. Jake regarded his grandfather with new eyes. Tradition was tradition. But for all that rabbits were supposed to be unkind to weasels, he never could be. He carried too much on him to ever give in to that bit of foolishness. He rose slowly, step by step crossing the short distance to his sunken and crumpled-in grandfather. He leaned in and slowly embraced the wizened old buck, holding him tight. "I'm proud to be a Hopps. And a Weaselton. I'm sorry it happened. I wish it was then, again, with our ways."

"Don't you make a Division with her," Pop-Pop said through a thick throat. "You keep every tear out of her eyes and a smile on her face. I wanna see those needle teeth as long you're together. You keep Weaseltons running the general store, you make sure every Hopps that wants their Twisty Toni Macaroni gets them. I shouldn't put this all on you. But..."

"It's my honor, Pop-Pop," Jake whispered, near the old buck's ear. "I know we have Outsiders, I can tell some of them like weasels more than anything else. I'll show them it works. I'll help them admit it. I'll do it." The hug went on a bit longer before they both separated, wiping away tears. "Well... I should go. Maybe I'll hop in one of the Drays and head into town."

Pop-Pop waved him of with a small smile. "Go. Go to your Princess. Make sure she knows how much she means to you." He regarded Jake's vanishing form and, for just a moment, saw himself in the bold, hard-working young buck. Brave and strong, everything a Hopps should be. Took generations but it was finally perfected. They were finally growing them right. He reached out and slowly turned up the sound on the radio again, smile growing as the music tickled his ears in the old, familiar way. "Fangs McLupus and his Swingers..."

 **Author's Notes**

 **Cecil Seedsworth-** As I said in another story, this multiverse/divergent universes system works on the Dr. Who Fixed Point system. Not every temporal event can be altered. Some things, no mater what, happen. Some began their trajectory before the divergence, and nothing can stop them, and some just happen via different methods. Cecil was always in love with Gerhilde, and as was seen, they had children before the breaking of the taboo. In this timeline they marry while Gerhilde is in prison, and Cecil just doesn't care.

 **RZO Zipper-** Just a quickie gag on the REO automobile line, like the Flying Cloud or Speed Wagon. Zipper also was inspired by the fly character from Rescue Rangers.

 **Chomper Music-** In real life terms, this is meant to be equivalent to what people called "Race Music." That is, music made mostly by African-Americans. It was considered quite shocking for white folks to listen to it, in some places. Pop-Pop is quite the maverick, in at least one narrow instance.

 **Burrow-** This was also stated in another story, but the concept of a Burrow Marriage is a very rare, still legal and still ecclesiastically supported system of polygamy. All parties are equally married to each other, requiring bisexuality from at least two parties, as carnal expression is considered necessary in a marriage. It's not just a way to have several wives. In the chapter "Stepping" of "Unbounded Love" Bea wished she could have had two husbands.


	3. Re: Union, Part 3

I do not own Zootopia, that belongs to Disney. This a fan work made solely for the sake of amusement.

 **The Burrows**

 **Chapter Three: Re: Union, Part Three**

 **By: Gabriel LaVedier**

The late Zootopia Express clattered away down the well-worn tracks, cutting through the land between the Tri-Burrows and Zootopia. It ran its way along as it always did, efficient and regular, comfortably the same. It was a constant, something the commuters and pleasure travelers could rely on.

Duke Weaselton was neither of those things. Hadn't been one of those things. He was... apparently one, or something. He used to know what he was. A hustler. A huckster. A grifting vermin on the edge of society, clinging to life in Happytown. That wasn't him anymore. He was something new, but by the silver he still had no idea what.

He was sitting down in the dining car, deep in thought, nursing a fairly delicious cup of coffee with all kinds of crazy extras. He had reached into his pocket to pay the nice llama that had smiled and called him 'Sir' as if he was a mammal that mattered, when he saw the denomination of the bill. He got the most expensive coffee, which the nice lady named Concha had said was an excellent choice, the only thing worth getting. Then the flavored creamer, pumps of syrup, foam. He even had money enough to stuff a tip into Concha's jar. He had never done it before, but Muffin had told him that workers were just like him. They needed the money. He had it. And she had called him sir.

It had come out well, in his estimation. He lacked what Muffin called a 'refined palate' but she had then explained that was what snobs called their personal preferences. She liked the things he did, she had showed it off by dining with him at food carts and dive restaurants. He looked out onto the speeding scenery, taking a long, slow sip. The sun was starting to get low in the sky, the bright, clear blue slowly transitioning into the fiery reds and oranges. It reminded him of trees turning around the Equinox. Harvest festivals from the Solaterrans, the Selenic Ingathering of Insects, he had even been around the Peaceground Hallowvest festivals, all of them used those colors.

His unguarded moment put a smile on his face, his figure faintly reflected in the glass. He looked like... some strange combination of himself and some stranger. His whiskers were still twisty and kinked, he was still scruffy and slightly disheveled. But it was a constructed dishevelment, orchestrated by Muffin and her gentle hands. Soft, tender hands spiking his fur and putting little puffs on his cheeks. But below his long neck he was wearing clothes that fit. A weasel-sized white shirt, a weasel-sized blue sports jacket, and a jaunty pastel-mix cravat tied at the base of his neck. He looked good, smart, like a mammal that should be called 'sir.'

His next sip was interrupted by a sudden sound, his body tensing, natural instinct to panic taking over him when someone snuck up outside his field of vision. His wide eyes darted over, seeing Muffin's loving smile turning into a shocked guilt. "O-oh, Dukey! Please forgive me. I didn't mean..."

"Doll, it's my problem," Duke sighed, reflexively scooting closer to the window to give room for Muffin's puffy coat adding to the wideness of her thick form. "I'm not gonna get stuck up in a dark alley anymore, I'm not lookin' out fer mooks with bats and pipes aimin' fer my legs. I'm good. And you did it. Can't thank ya enough."

Muffin smiled brightly, the ample, matronly chinchilla sliding into the space offered to her. She was dressed nicely, wearing a loose white jumper dress that didn't crush down the pile of her coat too badly, with a blue vest on to offer extra coverage to her upper body. The hue of the vest perfectly matched Duke's jacket. She leaned in against him, sniffing at the coffee cup. "Mm, smells like you enjoyed yourself. But a mammal doesn't nurse delicious coffee at a window unless he has a reason. You don't have to be alone, dear. I'm here now. Let me in. Let me help."

His reflexive instinct was to tell her to back off, leave him alone, or worse. That was the him he still felt like, but not the one he wanted to be. Not when it would lose him Muffin. Her presence was something he had to keep. "What am I, doll? I'm a hustler. But I don't hustle. Don't grift. Don't huckster up the DVDs and cheap watches. I'm an ex-con. Six months. Fraud. I know the line. I ain't anythin' I know I am. I don't know any-a this stuff ya show me, don't know how ta be comfortable in this stuff ya buy me. I went crazy ordering an eclipsed cup of coffee because... I could. I ain't nothin' no more. Just... nothin'."

"Mammals always seem to make a lot of that question, and I understand. But it never seemed so hard for me, because I was always sincere about what I was and what means the most to me. It's why loving you is so easy," Muffin cooed, taking one of Duke's hands to pull it in for a kiss. "You can't just live your life like some picaresque novel. You're not a fictional character. You're a real mammal. You don't have some author digging a rut for your life, you're only you. And you, no one else, decides what that means. I'm not even deciding that. I just give you the basics of life, so you can choose more freely."

Some of that didn't make sense, but that was down to Duke not getting the kind of education Muffin had. He got the idea. He knew what a novel was, anything else didn't matter. "I wanna ask, just what is that?"

"It's the name for a kind of novel about... about you," Muffin said, kissing Duke's hand again. "First-person stories not about anything. Just the story of the life of audacious, clever, low-born but upstanding mammals. But that's not you. You're not just some character in a story. You're a real mammal that can change. Slightly. Only as much as you want now that you can."

Duke leaned in, resting his head against the warm, puffy fluff of Muffin's neck. "I love ya, doll. Everythin' goin' crazy in my head, and ya just need ta tell me ta shut it, and I listen. Guess... I just... I stayed in Happytown too long. Whole family did. Heh. I never told ya why we did, even with uncle Meister in Bunnyburrow. He had it better than any of us."

Muffin gently kissed the top of Duke's head, fingers softly stroking over the uneven scruffiness she had helped him to sculpt. "Please, darling. Tell me."

"Ain't much ta tell. No, doll, it ain't me sayin' I'm too dumb ta tell, just ain't much there. Least weasels ain't too big and ain't too powerful. So we act big and powerful Makes us, like watcha say, tenacious. But when we ain't smart about bein' tenacious, we're just bug-stubborn. It wasn't that long, but time is weird in the city.

"Grandpa Cesar wanted ta have a Zootopian dream. He wasn't happy just runnin' the store. He just had two kits and, I guess, wanted something more for them. Great-grandpa Marshal wasn't havin' that. So, he and great-grandma kept uncle Meister and grandpa brought pops to Zootopia. To Happytown. It's always Happytown. Immigrants or preds, it's always Happytown...

"The city ain't the Burrows. Folks weren't jumping up and down over the Weaseltons back then, but they didn't hate anyone, not so much. The city hates a lot of things. Preds and country bumpkins. That ain't easy. Grandpa and grandma actually tried ta be good mammals. They stayed good mammals until they died. Pops... Pops understood how it really worked. He had ta get hard, be sneaky, do anythin' it took ta survive. He didn't care about gentle glowing and the moon's blessing. He just wanted ta survive.

"Surviving is what I got taught. Ya do _anythin'_ ta keep livin'. Pops went pretty far. I... I stole... I stole the Nighthowlers. I... I had ta survive..." Duke shivered, pressing more firmly into Muffin's neck.

"I know. I know. You only wanted to live," Muffin whispered, kissing one low, rounded ear.

"I stole that. Dad stole food when he couldn't get the bucks fer it. He stole booze because... he... I mean, he..." Duke pressed a hand against his cheek, and twitched sharply. "Then he stole more, just fer the money. He made it sound right. He taught me the old morals were fer bumpkins and rich prey. Preds got nothin'. Zootopia hated us first, we hate it right back. We weren't goin' back ta the Burrows, weren't gonna go suckin' up ta his brother, ownin' the store like a chump. He was proud he was a sly weasel. We weren't like him. We were a new Weaselton family. Ain't it great? Ma left, pops got thrown in the clink. And I... survived..."

Both of them were silent, listening to the clatter of the train and the soft sounds of Concha the llama cleaning up around the counter. "I can't understand what you went through. I know it. It feels so useless just being here holding you, like it isn't enough. But it's all I can do. I have nothing else. I hope you can accept that."

"Ya don't gotta understand. Just gotta be there. I handle the understandin'. Just be you, doll. That's the help I need. Never knew it, but I always needed ya."

The ride was quiet from then on, Muffin and Duke hugging each other tightly.

The sun had finally set when the train car was shunted to the arrival platform, Duke and Muffin walking off the train together, holding tightly. They were confronted by the smiling faces of his uncle Meister, Princess, and Jake. The older hob strolled forward and happily wrapped his arms around Duke, squeezing him tight. "Duke! Oh... I wish... wish we had seen each other before now. I sent so many letters... How... how's your pa?"

Duke had been stiff and motionless during the hug, eyes wide, arms trapped at his sides. He slowly wrapped his arms around himself, trying to wall himself off, head tilted to the side. "Pops... tried ta do what he could after ma left. He was just... he fell in with the kinda crowd that did stuff even he hadn't done before. He's in the Meadowlark Correctional Facility, as they like callin' it. He's in fer a long time. Pred guy, in a gang, from Happytown, stealin' big stuff. He's been there fer a while."

Meister shook his head slowly, looking down at the platform. "I... never thought it would get that bad. I heard this and that. But I didn't know... I... I wish you had come here. It's been a long time but this really is your home, in the end."

"We're Zootopian mammals now. We just are," Duke said, slightly heated. He flinched and shuffled, slightly guilty. "I'm a Zootopian now. It's in my blood. I'm learnin' ta make what I can outta it."

Meister turned his gaze to regard Muffin. "I can see. You sure made a lot out of it. Welcome to the Burrows, ma'am. Judy told us to expect a fancy lady, but you're more than I expected. Meister Weaselton, owner of _Weaselton's Wares_ , the Bunnyburrow general store. Been here for generations and thanks to these two kits, we'll be here generations more."

Muffin hid her face in a modest display, offering a small wave. "A great pleasure to meet you. I don't know the proper term to use here. Uncle? Meister? Mr. Weaselton? No matter. Muffin Lanige, of the Canyonland Laniges, resident of Hyenahurst."

A deep chuckle followed that. "If you feel it, uncle is just fine. Sounds like a fancy bit of background. Most folks around here don't know a lot about Zootopia. I'm guessing that's a really good thing."

"She's got more bucks than the Fallow family. Gramps told me they had some good scratch," Duke said.

"Still a good amount. But from that I'm guessing that's one of the very nice areas in Zootopia."

"I genuinely don't mean to be too prideful, but it's a very good one. Canyonlands may not be its own district, but it has its own charm, and Hyenahurst is one of the richer areas of the city. My family name is very long, much as yours seems to be, given how long your family has been here."

"Long and powerful aren't the same thing, Miss Muffin, but we're part of the community. Around here that's good as a gold ingot. If they think of you as part of them, great. If you're an anchor that just is what's supposed to be there, that's like being the moon itself. Being nothing special's the most special thing in the world," Meister said with a smile.

"I like his attitude. Your family really is lovely," Muffin said, pressing in against Duke's side.

"This is... weird. I've never met you before And we heard a lot of stuff about you. Judy... Judy said a lot of stuff. I'm guessing it's true about you being... kinda like Nick," Princess said, hesitantly coming forward to give Duke and then Muffin a light hug.

"I wasn't as good as him. I'll admit it. He got away with more. Except the stealin'. He didn't steal so much. I tried to not steal so much. Pops paid for that. But sometimes... ya gotta survive," Duke confessed.

"I'm not glad for the crimes. But I'm more than happy he survived. The city is unkind, and sometimes... flexibility is required. But no more!" She said firmly, wrapping Duke up in a sudden squeeze that pushed him deep into her fluff, against her clothing. "He doesn't need to fear starving or homelessness. He can become what he wants."

Jake came up himself, a little more hesitant. "It's... I mean, Judy says that we should trust you. And she says she arrested you for stealing Nighthowlers. But I'm gonna be a Weaselton. Nothing is going to change that. It's... family honor at stake. Can I trust you?"

Duke looked deeply into Jake's eyes, after averting his gaze into Muffin's fur for a moment. "I ain't perfect. I been doin' bad stuff all my life, I been in the clink..."

"He did six months, for fraud," Muffin quickly added. "I have to constantly clarify that, because, while I know he's proud of that, it's not an indication of abject criminality. Just a status mark for his former niche."

"Ya got respect fer time served," Duke explained. "And lotsa hobs like me... may have not said just what we did and where we did our time. Main jail ain't as impressive as somethin' like The Cooler in Tundratown or Sweatbox in Sahara Square or out in the reaches in Murkmoor..." He stopped when the name of the prison caused a sudden shiver and quick turn of the heads of the three before him. "What? Somethin' I said."

"You didn't know, so... you didn't know..." Meister said, gently patting Duke on the shoulder.

"His brother..." Princess began, gingerly taking Jake into her arms.

"My brother is a Purist," Jake spat. "He tried to kill a barn full of Interspecies Support members, including Princess and me. He even attacked the girlfriend of one of our deputies, put her in the hospital. And I... I fixed up his injuries because I didn't know. They caught him, and sent him up to Murkmoor. He can rot in there for all I care!"

Silence fell around the scene, interrupted only by the sounds of the train cars moving and the distant engines chugging. "Family ain't perfect," Duke whispered. "But ya learn. And ya keep what ya love. Right?"

Princess gave a small smile and kissed Jake on the cheek. "He's already talking like part of the family. I think the Weaselton genes can't get spoiled by any amount of city influence."

"Looks like it. Hope you like your stay, cousin," Jake chuckled.

"Now, can you direct us to this motel I booked? It was quite an ordeal, doing it all without internet assistance. I... I presume there's no Zuber or taxi service," Muffin said with increasing levels of sheepishness.

"The motel? Oh no, no no," Meister said, shaking his head. "I'll call Rose Spikel at the motel and tell her not to worry about your room. You're family. My brother might not... be here... but you're here. And family helps each other out. We may not have huge homes but we have spare rooms for family. Now... we live upstairs from the store, a little bigger than the usual upper story home in Bunnyburrow but it's nothing really special."

"Uncle Meister... my apartment ain't much. A room and some stuff I collected," Duke said with a wry grin.

"Former apartment," Muffin corrected. "As you might imagine, he lives with me now. It's... compact. A condominium. But I spent a great deal of time in his apartment. I know how he lived and I'm sure we'll be well, as long as there's a bed."

"We usually frown on that sort of thing here," Meister said, with faux imperiousness.

"Meanwhile, his brother's new bride is going down the aisle in bounty," Princess laughed, pointing at Jake. "And we've been... completely innocent together."

"You laid out a straw mat in the truck and I know it. You didn't clean up as well as you thought. I don't care you're digging a rut but if you do it on company time again you're grounded," Meister threatened.

"I'm an adult, daddy," Princess said with a roll of her eyes.

"Then buy yourself some property. I'll have Mrs. O'Pogo send over some property listings," Meister countered.

"Let's get going to the place," Princess said, quickly dragging Jake away in the direction of the lot located outside the slightly sprawling station.

"Let's get our bags and join your... our relatives. This should be quiet enjoyable," Muffin noted, walking with an arm around Duke's back toward the place where the bags were being unloaded.

A short truck ride later the Waselton contingent were in downtown Bunnyburrow, around back of the very large building that comprised _Weaselton's Wares_. The external staircase led to the third floor of the building, whose door opened up into a large, well-windowed space that had some internal partitions, making a large front room with living room things and a small dining table. The kitchen area was also visible and slightly enclosed, with a stove, a refrigerator and a sink visible. To the left was a short hallway.

"I don't like to be too full of myself, but as far as over-store property goes, this is the biggest in town. It's like our version of a mansion. Been in the family for generations, it's an anchor of the community, and folks are suitably impressed," Meister said. "The guest room is the last door on the right. You're next to Princess... and Jake. The door at the end of the hall is the bathroom."

"Four bedrooms and a bath? In Zootopia there are entire areas with no places that big. That's indulgent even in the nicer condos," Muffin said with a great bit of pride in her voice. "You should be proud of this... well, ancestral manor you have here, uncle Meister."

"It was built so long ago that no one thought about things like that. Plus, families can get big out here," Meister said, humbly.

"And don't get too charmed by the idea. The rooms are... familiar. The Hopps homestead has plenty just like it, and there's a reason we have so many. You get a bed, a bureau and enough of a closet to count, and one window," Jake added.

"Ya kiddin' me? Ya got separate rooms, ya don't cook where ya sleep and there's a whole bathroom, don't gotta fake ya belong ta a gym ta take an eclipsed shower," Duke commented.

"I'd love to do more but I guess you'll want to get settled in and have a good night's rest. Tomorrow we can tour Bunnyburrow. Well... maybe late in the day. Gotta put in the hours at the store. Folks depend on us," Meister said.

"Hey, any of your million sibs free tomorrow?" Duke asked in Jake's direction.

"They could be. They might ask for a few bucks, or some food or something. Depends on which generation you get. Dad'll let someone off the farm to take you around," Jake said. "After we're done for the day we might be able to take you some places you didn't see, unless you got one that can drive or you can drive and borrow one of the trucks."

"Being well-dusted means a lot of things in the city. One of them is you don't need to learn to drive," Muffin explained, somewhat ashamedly.

"We never had the scratch fer a car. Pops learned how ta handle a car... you fill in the details why he did that," Duke grumbled.

"Well, better hope you get one that drives," Jake said with a chuckle.

"Night, nephew... niece..." Meister hugged Duke and Muffin softly before making his way down the hall to his room.

Muffin gently led Duke down the same way. "Are you still uncertain about this trip."

"Still not sure what ta think... but I think I'm okay," Duke sighed, leaning heavily on Muffin's side.

o o o

"Think we can push them into a convenient gully and claim they ran off?" Nick quietly asked, snuggling up, shirtless, against Judy's side.

Judy sighed and shook her head. She was in what looked like a very old-fashioned carrot-print off-white nightgown, made of a lighter cotton than the usual flannel. She also had on a scalloped circular night-hat with her ears poking out from elastic-lined holes. "Nick... we don't have any completely abandoned and ignored gullies anymore, and one good rainstorm would flush them into even more populated areas. But really... however annoying and horrible they may be, quietly eliminating them and disposing of their bodies in the aquifer is not the answer. The Arcticas are just something the sun shines on, no worse or better than anything else. At least they aren't Purists or Chthons. Just ordinary terrible mammals."

"Trust me, Carrots, there's nothing ordinary about them," Nick sighed. "They're the kind that makes you see what's wrong with things. If all that matters is not being completely hated, that's kind of pathetic. Hate to put it like that but it really is pathetic. They hate me because they happen to be let into things. That's the kind of thing that made me do what I did."

"You made the choice... which I... guess was your point... but you still decided what to do with that frustration. It wasn't good, Nick. And holding onto that is even less useful. I thought you'd be better after the job and the wedding and... after the wedding..." Judy leaned in and rubbed her cheek on Nick's bare chest.

"You don't get over that kind of hate very fast. I'm trying, but folks like them make it flare up," Nick sighed, kissing at Judy's ears.

"Well... I can see that..." Judy sighed, one foot fluttering under the covers. "I think we **both** need to take a step back and just get comfortable with the two of them."

"I don't know if I can take one more day with them," Nick huffed, nibbling Judy's eartip casually.

"Well, we both have to, for more than one day," Judy sighed. "We also have to get out of bed eventually, too. Newlyweds can stay in bed for a day and get fed. We're past that and then some. Mom isn't going to feed us here. We have to risk running into them."

"Ugh... fine..." Nick slowly slipped out of the bed, taking up a decent amount of space in the room, which was slightly larger than most of the other rooms. It was on a rounded corner, with two windows and enough room for a television stand in addition to the usual things. He was clad in just a pair of white boxer-briefs with carrots printed on them. "Shower now or shower later?"

"Foxes have... an aura around them when they get active. Better go now," Judy said, leaping out of bed and pulling off her cap. "I'll go with you. Better to save the water."

"Sure, fluff, that's why," Nick chuckled, getting hit in the face with his clothes.

"Get your mind out of the cistern and just get in the shower," Judy said, more carefully gathering up her own clothes. "It's a bunny shower, it's tight space to start."

"Yeah it is," Nick said with a husky voice.

"You're lucky they put the young ones in a different part of the house," Judy said, leading him along to the nearest bathroom.

They arrived at the bathroom door at the same time as the Arcticas, who were dressed in heavy flannel robes and carrying heavy towels. Gregor stood stall and bulled his chest against Nick. "No! No russki! We are here first, we use the water first, we have the heat first!"

"I thought we were done with this," Judy sighed, rubbing her head softly. "If nothing else, you were afraid of what I could say to some friends of mine."

"That was before," Olga said, with a snide look. "You are family now, we are protected. He would not hurt family, that is the way it works. Family is protected. Where is your power now? You are boyar, but so are we, soon. We may feel no joy of this, but there is much to Sylvia marrying here. Now, leave your betters, russki!"

Gregor snorted and looked smug. "She is not here, we need not pretend. And you will say nothing, she will never believe you, and you would not let her leave your brother. You will do nothing, now go away, lowly, crawling..."

"Papa!" Sylvia was suddenly there, holding substantial hairdryers, with a dark look on her face. "I... I don't believe it, but I heard it. What is this?"

"Sylvia, you're old enough to know the truth, you know where our kind of foxes belong, and who we are above," Olga said, in a soothing voice with a tight smile.

"Is that so? Is that how it works? Then I supposed Councilor Fanak can walk all over you and treat you like spoor!" Sylvia snapped.

"Daughter! Language!" Gregor yapped.

"Language? Calling him Russki is good language? Scat! Spoor! You've been so high and mighty, I'm glad I abandoned you and came here!"

"Ungrateful child! You came from good stock!" Olga shouted.

"Please! Daddy was a waiter and a valet. He only ever drove fancy cars when someone his size needed one parked. He just got lucky that he was promoted to head waiter. And you... still want to act like some oligarch? You know what you did."

"You wouldn't," Olga snarled, ears flattening. "You respect your mother, do not embarrass you family like this. All for this... this!" She pointed at Nick as she trembled.

"You worked in a massage parlor. Your only small shred of dignity was it was a legitimate one. No matter how naked you were every day that was all that was expected of you. You walked over the backs of disgusting men and accepted tips until you could stop doing it. Don't be so prideful, mama. You can't erase your shame with arrogance and hate. Predators are predators. Foxes are foxes."

Olga had buried her face into her husband's neck, shaking lightly, his hands stroking down her back. "You... why would..." His indignation faded when he stared into Sylvia's hard glare. "We... we moved up. We gave you so much. We worked, we toiled, you know it. Lowly but able to rise. Why won't you accept our power?"

"You don't have it. You never had it. I couldn't bear it. You know what predators have in the city. You disgusted me, acting as if your fur didn't reek. I came here to find... something. Something much better. I did. I found this... strange but calm place. Their rules and prejudice were different, old, twisted, barely real. I found Kenny. Kenny... I'd never meet him in Tundratown. You'd never let me. You call his family boyars but don't respect them for being prey."

Olga turned a moist eye to her daughter, breathing heavily. "We wanted the best, to make you better, so you could never walk on men's backs or have arrogant prey give you their keys and threaten you. You were meant to be rich, a socialite."

"I'm better than that. This family is... is crazy. I mean... sorry Judy, but you are a little bit," Sylvia said with a grin.

Judy pointed to Nick and grinned. "Hey, you know... we all do crazy things now and then. Our family just kind of has to own it. It'll be great to add you to it."

"And you can't stop it. Mama, papa, you can understand that this will happen, or go back to the icebox and forget you have a daughter. Stay with your money and the fake respect everyone gives you. I learned many things here, especially who really loves me. You didn't tend to my every need after my life almost ended. Kenny did. His family welcomed me like I was already their daughter. And I didn't need to hate red foxes or look down on prey."

The two arctic foxes held one another for a moment longer. "We earned our power. We did all the things we had to, faced the embarrassment, did everything. Why must we suffer things we do not like?" Olga asked.

"You may dislike all of that, but... why?" Sylvia asked.

"It is... how we... rise..." Gregor mumbled.

"I don't mean to get in the middle of this, but family is family. You don't need to do that. I mean... not all rich folk are like that. Gazelle is very nice. My brother Jake's getting new relatives in the form of a cousin, Muffin. She's a Hyenahurst resident and she's the kindest, most gentle mammal I ever met."

"Carrots..." Nick softly said, moving slightly closer to the Arcticas. "This is... this is a fox thing. They were treated like trash. Even in Tundratown foxes are the lowest predators. Ermines and minks stand over them, like Councilor Erminova. They scrabble like red foxes. Maybe not as hard, maybe not as far, but it takes work to pull away from that kind of thing. It makes you hard. You know it, you saw what I was like. I didn't live it as long as them. It takes a long time to learn. And you noticed it yourself. It takes a long time to unlearn."

"This was so much easier when I just hated them," Sylvia said with a hint of frustration. She huffed softly and suddenly hugged her parents. "Sweet bounty you're both just broken. I can't stand that I have to try to understand you. I like things to be easy. Or at least... calm. You're such... you know what you are. You're also my parents."

"I think we should leave them to this. They're going to need some time," Nick said, carefully leading Judy into the bathroom and closing the door gently behind them.

Judy slipped her nightdress off slowly, halting with a thoughtful look on her face. "Did... did you just run a hustle using loving family care and the reconciliation of a divided family to get us into the shower first?"

"Foxes understand foxes. And... it should make our lives easier," Nick said with a grin, sliding off his boxer-briefs and stepping into the tub.

 **Author's Notes**

 **Well-Dusted-** A Chinchilla-specific epithet implying great wealth, the equivalent of "well-heeled" for a society that doesn't generally wear shoes and one particular segment thereof.

 **Disposing of their bodies in the aquifer-** Apparently Judy likes watching the Zootopian equivalent of Psych, as this is a very minor variation of something Shawn said as a... comedic... guess about what Lassiter was doing locking him and Gus in the car on the way to an unknown location.


	4. Re: Union, Part 4

I do not own Zootopia, that belongs to Disney. This a fan work made solely for the sake of amusement.

 **The Burrows**

 **Chapter Four: Re: Union, Part Four**

 **By: Gabriel LaVedier**

"It's not that I don't trust you. You come highly recommended. But I just feel this isn't the kind of thing that can be done with technology," Sylvia said. She was standing in Bobby Catmull's shop, flanked by her parents. They were standing in front of the glass counter, with Bobby behind it holding up his customized and extensively modified upright-bass-style Catsio keytar.

"At my wedding we had a live player of the balalaika, and he played the whole ceremony and the reception, for a very reasonable price," Gregor insisted with a sniff.

"That's because it was uncle Constantin, he only charged you because it ran long. He told me so," Sylvia said with a laugh and shake of her head.

"But it was a live player," Olga insisted.

"I'm live, and I play," Bobby countered. "No one in Bunnyburrow has any problem with me. The other Burrows call me, too. I do good work and I always deliver the kind of musical experience mammals love."

"The Hopps clan says as much, but I kind of side with papa. You're live, but the sound is just electronic. I understand that's easier, and I don't doubt that you can do the job. But there's something to the sound of live music."

"At least give me a chance to show you what Jenny wrote for you. I think I have it down," Bobby said, flicking a few switches and adjusting some dials on his instrument. "She took the traditional wedding music from the old country of your family, but punched it up and brought it to something even more rich and full."

"There is purity in the old music. But we will see, kot. Impress us," Olga demanded, standing with her arms crossed over her chest.

A few more dials were carefully twisted, some sliders were moved and his fingers found their places. After taking a few breaths he began to work his right hand fingers over the keys, his left manipulating toggles and sliders to adjust tones and timing. The first press of a key filled the room with a clear tone, the rapid strumming of the balalaika. Each press of a different key imitated the upward or downward strumming, multiple keys pressed sounding like someone working more strings at once, almost like several players playing at once.

Bobby's eyes were closed and his face a mix of calm serenity and subtle concentration. His brow furrowed slightly as he made adjustments to the length of time the strum lasted with each key press, shaving milliseconds to sound like an unbroken strumming, while other buttons activated or changed backing tones, like supporting players giving the background for the main melody that was being crafted.

It was just as had been said, the central framework of the song the old country wedding music, but with new tempo, a new set of tones and flourishes, greater complexity and unexpected twists. It was old yet new. The music fell well on the ears of the foxes listening to it, pulling a smile from the formerly sour Olga and even getting the dour Gregor to nod his head along to the sound.

Bobby finished the tune off by slowly lifting a finger off the last key, silencing his backing samples and letting the strum fade out. He kept his eyes closed, breath softly panting as he brought himself down from performance level to normal level. "Well... how did we do?"

Olga answered, after taking a moment to work her muzzle. "We?"

"I told you, I just play the music. Usually it's mine but Jenny writes a lot of these. She remixed it and made sure I knew how it would work," Bobby answered.

"Please give her my compliments. She has captured the soul of the music, but given it more life," Olga said.

"I find you acceptable, sir. Acceptable," Gregor said, with a softened sternness. "We will hire you. Appear on time, and dress well. And... bring this Jenny with you. Make certain you can perform a double ceremony, we do not need a tired musician."

Bobby jotted down the settings he had on his instrument, nodding to Gregor's statement. "Absolutely, sir. I take my responsibilities very seriously. Jenny was invited to Jake's wedding; she'll be even happier going to Kenny's, too."

Olga nodded as the family walked out. "Very good, kot... Mr. Catmull. Do svidanya."

"Oh, yeah, bye!" Bobby called out, waving as the three stepped out of his shop. He slumped down afterward, his relieved sigh making it seem like he was deflating. "These rehearsals are getting worse. City mammals... why did it have to be city mammals?"

"Oh, they can't be that bad," Jenny said, just catching the observation as she came in the front door. The mule deer doe was dressed breezily, wearing daisy dukes cut high on her long legs and a lilac tank top. Numerous inexpensive silver earrings dangled from her enormous, sideways-pointed ears. "I saw them coming out of the shop. They seemed very nice. I mean, they can't be that different from Sylvia."

"Don't you believe it, sugar-hooves. Those parents of hers are pretty stern. They're like Old Buck Fallow. Maybe not as staring and aloof but just as hard," Bobby sighed, crossing the store to wrap his arms around Jenny's svelte form. "At the very least, they liked the music. We're invited to mingle at their wedding too."

"Oh good! I was worried how reworked traditional music would go over. And they loved it enough to invite us," Jenny said, kissing Bobby's cheek.

"Like they wouldn't. You're brilliant, honey, and you know it," Bobby purred, the rumble thrumming from his chest and sending a pleasant tingle through both. "I love you, sugar-hooves."

"Bobby..." Jenny buried her face in Bobby's neck, nuzzling softly.

"That's the last issue off my mind. You want to head to _Almondine's_ or maybe _The Grease Trap_? _Attie and Martin's_ got in some fresh trout."

"Bobby..." The tone shifted down, Jenny's head pulled up and back. Her features had turned down, eyes narrow, her preorbital and forehead glands slightly flared in that particular way that showed her annoyance. Even as a timid doe she had a developed sense of pique.

"Sugar, sugar... I know what you're thinking. I'm not slacking. I'd never do anything to make you mad like that. Remember what I told the Sheriff? I'd die before I see you hurt," Bobby quickly said, pressing warm, unashamed kisses on all three flared glands.

Jenny quivered, the moist splits slowly closing again, soothed by each little kiss. "I... sweet sunshine, Bobby, I've never been this tense. How did I get from being so timid?"

"Cougar must rub off on deer. You just want to take care of me and I don't deserve it. You got me off my hinders and making more of myself. Can't thank you enough," Bobby softly said, kissing Jenny's cheek.

"Oh you..." Jenny softly pushed Bobby's shoulder and smiled. "So, why are you going to take me out for fried fish and ice cream?"

"Like I said, that was the last thing that was of concern today. The Hopps and Weaselton weddings are our big projects right now. And impressing those stony foxes even a little bit means that we could be a little lazy today, if that's okay. You know how we cougars are. The old saying around Predburrow has always been, _The catamount invented lazing and idleness, but you never saw such a strong worker._ It's my way, honey-hocks, I'm just lucky to have you here reminding me of that second part."

Jenny considered it for a moment, before smiling and offering the crook of her arm. "Come on, catamount, you've corrupted me into a lazy doe. Let's have some catfish and fries and a sweet treat. Earth love Attie but she's trying too hard to get clever with her fish."

Bobby took a small sign out form behind the counter, _Out of the Shop, leave a message._ Below the sign was a pad of paper and a pen attached to a string. He locked arms with Jenny and offered a huge, toothy smile. "No such thing, sweetness. It's a predator thing, I think. Especially with weasels but other predators want that variety. It's our little nod to being fancy about food. Good ol' Gideon's been offering all manner of wild fruits and such that he picks up from those fancy folks in Zootopia, and no one complains at all. You sure loved that durian tart I got you."

"Never would have figured. I smelled it before he cooked it, I wondered how he managed to keep his shop smelling good," Jenny noted with a slight grimace. She locked the door behind them and waited as Bobby affixed the sign to the glass on the front. "If you say it's good I'll try it. I've always just been timid about that."

"Nothing wrong with that, it just makes you unique. Special. I think it's wonderful," Bobby noted, nuzzling her cheek as they strolled down the cobbled walk arm-in-arm.

Their slow pace led them eventually to the nicely decorated storefront announcing **Attie and Martin Marten's Fish and Chips**. It looked mostly like other main-drag-Bunnyburrow buildings, the big glass window and the squared off design, but loads of carved wood embellishments had been added. From stylized plants to lovingly recreated fish, to the Martens themselves, in slightly exaggerated, cartoonish style, dressed as characters from old adventure stories. Bobby graciously opened the door, releasing a heady wave of of steamy air thick with the heaviness of fry oil and the mingled scent of fish and various fried vegetables.

"Welcome folks! Come on in and tell me what I can get ya!" Attie Marten chirruped happily. The marten woman was quite petite, even for being a beech marten. She was standing on a riser behind the tall counter, dressed in her typical shirt of short and puffy sleeves and puffy black pantaloons, all covered in front by a heavy apron that looked to be fronted with silken panels.

"Mrs. Marten, always a delight," Jenny said, giving a slight curtsey. "Bobby convinced me I should try out your trout. With fried potatoes. And maybe the cocktail sauce."

"Save that for the shrimp and lobster, dear. Good old malted vinegar is the only thing any fish needs. And some tartar sauce if you need it. How about you, Bobby?"

"Fried trout, Mrs. Marten. And give me that tempura with a tattie-leekie, been meaning to try that," Bobby said while perusing the elaborately carved menu board set over the top of the counter.

"Ah, great choice! Folks have said it's a good addition. I'm so glad Hayma told us about what they have back in Tanukitown. Those chili-spiced skewered fried locusts with lime are the moon's glow," Attied said, calling further back into the restaurant. "Sweetie, drop me two fried trout, one fried potatoes and one tempura tattie-leekie, it's for Bobby and Jenny."

Martin called from the back, "Right on it, love!"

Bobby looked up at the board and squinted slightly. "Oh that wasn't... is that a new menu board?"

Attie nodded and gave an exaggerated sigh. "That it is. Martin just finished it and installed it."

Bobby tilted his head slightly. "But... why?"

"Oh he said it was getting a little greasy and dull; things do, around here. Takes extra time to wipe it all down. But he could have just cleaned it off. He just wanted to make a new one. I know that mouse of mine. He's always energetic, always needs to be working. If he can't wander anymore he's got to do something, and I guess woodcarving is it. He must have gotten used to having a blade with all that time carrying that switchblade. At least now it's just a wood knife," Attie explained. "Can't complain. Makes the storefront look nice, and even if it makes changing the menu tough, it does look wonderful."

"It's like the opposite problem that Bobby has. It's hard to get him going, but he really goes once he's on his way," Jenny noted, nosing Bobby under the chin.

"Oh that Martin never needs to get going. It's a wonder he sleeps," Attie sighed, with a smile on her muzzle.

"Order up, trout, taters, and leeks. Eating in or are you love-doves going back to the shop?" Martin asked, the mouse poking his head from the kitchen area.

"Wrap it up, but we're on our way to _Almondine's_ and maybe to Gideon's for something," Bobby replied.

"Keeping it in the Burrow. I like that. Better you spend your bucks here," Martin noted, amid the crinkling of paper and foil.

"Oh Martin, folks can spend their money where they want. It all circles back around. We're sure not hurting," Attie chided.

"It's the principle of it. This is my home now and I love it. Drifting changes you, and having a home makes you aware. I've got roots now, and I want them to stay put," Martin countered, walking along a runner on the counter and pushing the wrapped packages along. The rather oversized and muscular mouse was dressed much like his wife, in an oddly archaic laced-up linen shirt and dark purple pantaloons, all covered with an apron. "First two are fish, taters are third."

"Much obliged, Mr. and Mrs. Marten," Bobby said with a nod, picking up the packets that belonged to him and passing along exact change.

Attie had packed and passed along a white paper bag while her husband had been speaking. "Salt, pepper and malt vinegar. Did you need tartar sauce?"

"No thank you for me, Mrs. Marten, I'm good with this," Jenny softly said, picking up her food and the bag of condiments.

"Mind that, folks, it's still hot from the oil," Martin warned.

"We'll be careful. Have a good day," Bobby said, linking arms with Jenny again and walking out into the cooler, lighter air, momentarily still wrapped in the thick scent of oil and fish.

As they walked down the road Jenny took notice of new figures, nicely dressed and casually going along the street. A weasel and a chinchilla, close as mammals could get. The doe quickened her pace while approaching them, giving them a good looking over. "You must be Princess' cousin, the one from Zootopia."

Duke cringed, a little, given a soft squeeze by Muffin in response to the reflexive fear. "Y-yeah, that's me. Duke Weaselton. Prob'ly gonna be last of th' Zootopia Weaseltons. Don't matter much, these ones are better anyhow." He gave Muffin a nudge and smiled his crooken smile. "G'wan and introduce y'rself, doll. I love hearin' ya talk."

"How sweet. Yes, I am Muffin Lanige, of the Canyonland Laniges. Charmed to meet you both," Muffin said, with muted grandness, dipping her head a respectful amount.

"Name's Bobby Catmull. If you need music, I'm it," Bobby said, taking Duke's comparatively smaller paw and shaking it vigorously. "I'm playing at your cousin's wedding and reception. Both the weddings and receptions, actually."

"And I'm his sound board operator and regular co-composer of original music, Jenny Thicket," she said, shaking Muffin's paw gingerly.

"And quite a bit more, I can tell," Muffin said with a hint of amusement. "You can tell how I feel on that subject, I'm certain."

"Good decision-makin' kinda runs in the family, I guess. Only smart thing I ever did was be just smart enough to get this fluffy treat interested," Duke said, with a proud puff of his chest.

"He's modest. But it does look like it runs in the family. And a good family it is. Uncle Meister is quite the character," Muffin noted.

"He is that. Jake should be a good stand-in once he can't run the counter anymore," Bobby said with a grin.

"Are we keeping you from anything?" Jenny suddenly queried.

"Well, work never ceases for any weasel, it would seem. All three of our local relatives are engaged in running the shop so we were sightseeing on our own. It's so quaint here, so unlike the big city, and even unlike Meadowlands," Muffin explained.

Duke sniffed strongly at the wrapped packages, his kinked whiskers trembling slightly. "Smells good. Fresh fish. And some vegetables. Is that... that fancy batter they got over in Tanukitown?"

"Impressive nose. I never knew weasels were so keen," Bobby said with a nod.

"Well, the sayin' goes in Happytown, ya live longer if yer nose is sharp enough ta pick up the details. Ya get to know what good food smells like," Duke casually explained, polishing his claws on his chest.

Muffin kissed Duke's cheek and stroked his kinked whiskers. "I'm so proud."

"Have you folks been to _Almondine's_? Bobby promised me some ice cream. We've done the big things and I think he's right that we deserve a treat," Jenny explained.

"Uncle Meister said he was gonna take us there sometime," Duke noted. "Guess we can, eh, double-dip. Right, doll, right?" He gently nudged Muffin in the side, popping his brows and grinning.

Muffin rolled her eyes and giggled sweetly. "Yes, dear. Very droll."

"Heh, yeah, that's what it is," Duke said with a quick laugh. He turned aside and rapidly started tapping on a very new smartphone, fumbling it slightly and seeming to erase things several times.

Muffin gently leaned in and tenderly whispered, "O-l-l."

Duke tapped in the last few letters and took a moment to look over what came up. "Oh! Oh yeah, I am, uh, droll, ain't I, doll?"

"Absolutely, Dukey," Muffin said, kissing Duke's cheek. "Please, do lead on to this place. It might not be a large town but it still takes time to navigate."

"It's all mostly along the main drag, but there are a few on the siding streets. We're kinda proud of it, though. It's home," Jenny said, pulling Bobby along and leading Duke and Muffin.

The little group made their way up the block slowly, Bobby and Jenny unwrapping their packets and sharing the little containers of malt vinegar. Both bit into the trout and matched fanning their mouths. "Ah! Attie and Martin keep telling us and nobody in the Burrow listens," Bobby said, sucking breath in and out to cool his mouth.

"Part of the charm at this point," Jenny added, giving it a thoughtful chew once it was safe. "Merciful sunrise, it's really different! Mm, I still like the catfish but this trout isn't too bad either."

Duke twitched his knobbled whiskers at the scent of hot fish, his tongue flicking out to lick his lips. "I, ah, didn't know that prey ate meat, like, on the regular. I knew a few a the... _workin' gals_ in Happytown that ate some meat when they had a chance, didn't matter what they were. Weren't too many prey but still..." He looked over at Muffin and patted her cheek. "Ain't a thing, doll. Knew 'em socially. Gotta when yer all survivin' together."

Jenny took the time to finish her bite before replying. "Mm, deer are known for it. It depends on family, but most at least add some fish or bugs. My family just goes right for it. They love the Selenic Autumnal fairs, lots of bug preserves and fried things in big buckets or wrapped in dough."

"There's nothing more romantic than knowing you can take a doe home to the family and she's glad to eat up what they serve, and that you can swing by for a meal and you know they'll serve plenty of what you like," Bobby said, with his mouth partially full of his tempura veggies.

"We _used_ to have big freezers full of catfish dad noodled out of the river. We have one now, and dad has a big tranq rifle now," Jenny giggled, tickling Bobby's cheek with a large ear.

"Tell your mom to make less delicious breading. I'm a weak, helpless predator who loves celery, bay and paprika. All mushed up in cornmeal and golden fried..." Bobby started to roll his eyes up and purr.

Jenny pulled hard on Bobby's arm and pointed up at the big sign announcing _Almondine's Treats_. It was made of polished brass, sealed with clear lacquer, and written in a very old, classic script that made it look like something out of an old movie. "Next Asterdas. I'll warn them you're coming."

The four entered the parlor and stepped backward in time. Everything came from an earlier age, from the black and white checkered tile floor to the sleek Formica countertop, to the small booths with their pink and puffy vinyl padding set beside the two big picture windows at the front of the place. Behind the bright counter, with its pinkish trim and sparkling white surface, a number of ice cream dispensers sat, for the soft serve. Some stand mixers for shakes were arrayed on the counter, and a big freezer was in front holding tubs of the normal variety. Everything looked to be modern, with various bits of classic hardware attached, the new wearing a skin made of the old.

The attendant behind the counter perked up slightly, or seemed to due to the height of her ears. The vixen behind the counter was a mature female fennec, dressed in an old fashioned white ruffle-fronted shirt and pants with white and red stripes. Between her enormous ears rested a boat-shaped white paper hat with the name of the business along the sides. "Hey, folks. Welcome to Almondine's. Got the cool treats ya want. Good, cool treats. So good to be here."

"My, my, you are very cosmopolitan here, aren't you? I'd heard the region was developing but not so quickly and so diversely," Muffin said, striding up to the counter.

"I'm new. Figured there was better than living in a stone burrow twiddling life away in the sandbox. And I don't care how developed I am for it, with the ears and the paw fuzz and all that. Hot is hot. I wanted to try something cooler. And without any... complications," the fennec replied, peering hard at Duke. "You're new too. That ain't your right outfit. You can't be the Duke of Bootleg."

Duke scoffed lightly and peered at the vixen. "The Duke is retired, got me a better life with this tasty dust-tumbler. Ain't she the dustiest dame ya ever saw?"

Muffin hid her face behind her hands, tail flicking in embarrassment. "Oh Dukey! You don't have to be so extravagant! I'm only sprinkled..."

"Don't sell yerself short, doll," Duke said with a toothy grin. "I know all mammals ain't the same 'n whatnot. But that face ain't a regular one. You connected ta that guy Wilde was always pullin' gaffles with?"

The vixen laughed softly and stroked one long ear. "You got that right, _Dukey_. But they're both outta the game. That game. Big bro is still doing... well, he's doing your game. Tod's gotta eat, guess a hob's gotta eat too. Bet you get all the salmon and ahi you want."

"Your implication is noted, but probably innocent," Muffin said, reflexively pulling Duke in for a protective hug. "He is not what you say. I approached him. And suffice to say, he has been most delightful. But I know those like your brother. They have a place too. Sometimes a smile for a night carries a body through many days."

"Yeah, I'm sure that's what he says about it," the vixen laughed, holding out a small hand. "Fussi. Just Fussi. I can guess what brings you folks down from the big city. It actually took me a little bit to make the connection with the folks at the general store. Didn't help I didn't actually know your name. You were always a small fry from Happytown, and I kept to myself in Sahara Square."

Muffin shook the offered hand and smiled. "Pleasure. Muffin Lanige. And you know my dear Duke, by reputation. I can guess you've been here long enough to know our travel companions." Muffin stepped aside to show off Jenny and Bobby.

"Hey, Fussi," Bobby said with a lazy wave.

"Moved here a bit back, around the time your cousin got engaged. That was a crazy time all over," Fussi said with a shake of her head. "I already know what they want. What can I get the two of you?" Fussi pointed above her head to the old-time-style menu board, listing sizes, additions, toppings, and the styles of treats.

"Consarnit, girl! I pay you to sell ice cream, not jaw with the customers," an angry voice called. From out of the back room emerged a stooped, old-looking albino squirrel wearing a uniform similar to the one Fussi had on.

"I learned to sell cheap junk at a markup at my local souq; talking to the customers is how you upsell the needless extras, especially food, you wrinkly old prune," Fussi shot back.

"Don't you take that tone with me, missy! I'm telling you to get them served up good and fast, sling that product and get them to get the toppings," the old squirrel huffed.

"I know my business, and chatty customers buy more because they don't think about what you're selling them," Fussi insisted. "I already know what two of them want. Let me do my job and sell this stuff, you fossil."

"O-oh..." Muffin gasped, stepping back slightly.

"Nobody in the Burrow could handle Old Buck Almondine until Miss Fussi came along. They yell like they're gonna kill each other but the shop has never been more productive," Bobby noted, casually.

Fussi scoffed at the old squirrel and turned to the quartet again. "So what'll it be?"

Duke strode up and looked over the menu. "Just like those fancy shops, a surly clerk. Now I'm gettin' used to it." He laughed softly and pointed to the containers in the glass display case. "Gimme a double scoop of the grasshopper and one honey-locust in a waffle boat, with the chocolate syrup and ant sprinkles."

Fussy started scooping, after going along behind-the-counter runners to collect items, and looking smug. "Ha! Told you it was a good idea to get more of the bug stuff. You knew it was going to sell, Deputy Buck and that little doe of his could probably kill a bucket by themselves."

"Not the point. We always just had the one little one and plenty for all the prey," Mr. Almondine huffed. "It always worked fine. I only added a little more because I needed to shift the stock."

"Whatever you say, ya old nut," Fussi chuckled, setting the treat aside. "How about you, dustypuff?"

"Just a small waffle cone and two scoops of the lemon sorbet. Can I also have a cup of cricket pieces? I've grown a taste since my dear introduced them to me," Muffin said.

"That's seventy-five acorns extra," Mr. Almondine insisted.

"Toppings are free with two scoops, she doesn't have to shake 'em over the thing," Fussi said, scooping the cone and preparing a plastic ramekin of cricket chunks.

"He always tries to tin and corn you on little things," Jenny whispered to Muffin. "Miss Fussi got most of that ended, usually. When Old Buck Almondine is at the counter you still pay extra."

"And those two share a half-chocolate, half-nutty-grubby Sundast with walnuts, caramel syrup and three cherries, the third one cut almost in half so they can share it and kiss," Fussi rattled off as she whipped through the preparation. "And yes, I charge them for the extra. Gotta, extra work, extra cost, and they pay because they're too cute for their own good."

"I keep telling you..." Mr. Almondine began.

"No bunnies, no care," Fussi airily said, setting down the last creation and looking on the assemblage with a smile.

"Got a mind like that brother-a yers, same tongue, too," Duke said with a grin.

"Fennecs have a good head for details. I don't use it the same way but it helps the same way. And there's nothing wrong with my tongue, it's true. No bunnies around, I don't care. You two are always talking about how cute things are anyhow, so why why not say it?" Fussi asked.

Muffin pulled out her wallet and passed over the amount rung up, dropping some bills in the tip jar. "My treat, please. I have more bucks than Meadowlands, and it's nice to meet such wonderful folks."

"Miss Lanige... that's very generous of you," Jenny cooed.

"That's my chilla. She gives even when it ain't needed. 'Swhy I'm here," Duke said with a proud puff of his chest.

"Enjoy it, folks! Good and cold. It's a great change from the sandbox," Fussi said, pushing all the ice cream forward.

"Bah, heat can't be that bad. First cold snap and all we'll see of you is your brush when ya run back back to the city. You won't make it," Mr. Almondine said with a nod of his head. "Guarantee it."

"I'll take that action, ten to one. Put a long antler on it and I'll have a very merry solstice in front of a fire with s'mores," Fussi said with a flip of one ear.

"Can we sit here? This is better than trained roaches out in front of an apartment block," Duke said, greedily shoveling down his ice cream until his mind caught up with his instincts.

"It's no _Carmine_ , but it should suffice," Muffin concurred, sliding into a booth seat with Duke.

"We've seen this show, so we're heading off," Bobby noted. "But it was nice to meet you. Thanks for the treats and we'll probably see you again before the wedding."

"I wish I had my harp with me, I'd give a little preview. You'll hear it there," Jenny said, following Bobby out the door.

"Nice folks, nice folks," Duke said, nodding. "Ya ever... ever thought 'bout another house, doll? I hear other folks at those fancy parties talkin' about how they got homes somewhere. We... we ain't gotta go crazy and go out to all those places like they do. I mean... I love the city. It's nice in Hyenahurst. But it's still the city. I come outta here, kinda. Maybe we have some vacation time here, see how that works."

Muffin leaned in to press a kiss on Duke's cheek. "And we'll be among family, close and extended alike. I've found it pleasant. The open places, the slow pace. I'll see what we can arrange."

"No more Zootopians, we've got enough with that fox, and this fox," Mr. Almondine snorted.

"Give it a rest, you know you love the money. You can see she's got it," Fussi huffed.

"That's not the point, we need to preserve the feel of the Burrow," Mr. Almondine insisted.

"Hey, my family's from here, I ain't gonna change nothin'!" Duke shouted.

"He's just a bit set in his ways, I see. I assure you, we'll be model citizens," Muffin diplomatically stated..

"The Weaselton's fine, just don't go ruining the community with a lot of fancy junk," Mr. Almondine said, pointing at Muffin.

"Never! Or at least only behind closed doors. I'll keep the aesthetic but decorate as I will. That should suffice for all parties," Muffin said with a nod.

"Build a big mansion. It aggravates him," Fussi noted with a soft snort.

"I can fire you, missy," Mr. Almondine threatened.

"But you won't, so let's see if they order more later," Fussi casually said, she and Mr. Almondine settling in to watch Duke and Muffin casually eat.

 **Author's Notes**

 **Glands-** Deer have scent glands scattered across their bodies, for marking territory. For Jenny, and other civilized deer, showing them is a sign of annoyance. Kissing them is incredibly significant, showing Bobby is a good boyfriend.

 **Attie and Martin's decorations-** I'm hammering the Redwall references hard, with a lot of old fashioned attire and classical things like hand-carved wooden decorations.

 **Tattie-Leekie-** Potatoes and leeks, a play on cock-a-leekie, chicken and leek soup, and neeps and tatties, turnips and potatoes.

 **All the stuff about Jenny's family-** If the Greys are the bad sort of rednecks, the Thickets are clearly the good sort of rednecks. Mom with her fried catfish and cornbread breading, dad noodling catfish out of the river himself, plus having a big ol' gun to shove in the face of the strange boy his little princess is bringing around, eating their food.

 **Dusty-** All dust-related talk is chinchilla slang for having money or being generally rich and various levels of showy about it.

 **Grasshopper and Honey-Locust-** I think it's funny. Grasshopper, like the drink, I imagine a nonalcoholic crème de menthe with actual grasshopper pieces. Honey-locust is a biblical reference, the food of John the Baptist and an appropriate flavor for insectivorous critters with a sweet tooth

 **Acorns-** Well, it seemed like the right time to mention divisions of a buck.

 **Tin and Corn-** Nickel and dime, being references to the metal one coin is made from, and a shortening of acorn, or possibly mentioning the image on a ten-acorn coin, like calling a hundred dollar bill a Benjamin.

 **Long Antler-** A hundred bucks

 **Carmine-** A gender-flipped Carmen, appropriate that a sophisticate like Muffin would think fondly on an Opera


	5. Re: Union, Part 5

I do not own Zootopia, that belongs to Disney. This a fan work made solely for the sake of amusement.

 **The Burrows**

 **Chapter Five: Re: Union, Part Five**

 **By: Gabriel LaVedier**

"Miss Lanige, let me tell you this is a distinct honor!" Pepper O'Pogo squealed, drawing attention from the other workers in the real estate office. It was a few hours after the snack at Almondine's, Duke and Muffin having found the real estate office and located an agent who was free and seemed agreeable. Pepper's glowing and bubbly personality put her above the others, including her her husband. "A rich Zootopian looking for a vacation property, and you chose me to help you. Thank you so much!"

"You seemed an obvious choice. Your personality is so... effervescent!" Muffin cooed.

"I'm like a big bottle of Diet Hep, just ready to bubble over with goodness," Pepper said with a smile. "Now, you want a little vacation spot, you say? I have plenty of leads for you. We're a growth area, after all. Something like a cabin, maybe?"

"Got a mansion? That Fussi vixen said we could make old Almondine go crazy if we had a mansion. Sounds good for a laugh," Duke said with a muted laugh.

Pepper pulled out a file folder and opened it up to show a dark, sagging, abandoned-looking manor all painted up in cracked dark red and black paint. "I have one priced to move, the Arklay manor. Solid foundation. As we say in the business, it has good bones."

"Yeesh. Looks like it's all fulla bones," Duke said, eyes boggling in a manner he had perfected for showing absolute shock.

"I know that rich folk are meant to... enjoy such imposing structures but it seems more appropriate for someone... nocturnal. The aesthetic doesn't suit me," Muffin said with a game attempt at being polite.

"No one wants this thing. I'll need to take it down and build something better. It's like that cursed cannery hanging over my head," Pepper wailed.

"You're selling a cannery?" Muffin asked.

"A Veggie-Tech factory. It's an illegal death-trap they abandoned after the other factory in Podunk burned down and killed several. They were sued into nothing and now I need to do something with it," Pepper explained. "Oh they respect me, that's why they give me the real beauties. They figure I can actually do something with them."

"And I thought Happytown was bad," Duke muttered.

"You say you have the lot available. We don't require much, and I have good funds. Surely we can just level the factory or the manor and then put up some modest little bungalow with a guest space on the half story with a nice, big verandah. We can lounge out there, watching the natural beauty," Muffin sighed, a distant, dreamy look in her eyes.

"Yeah, doll, natural beauty, like that club," Duke said with a lick of his lips and wiggle of his whiskers. "Be great seein' ya all in silver puff an' nothin' else, maybe out on a hammock."

Pepper laughed softly, reaching out to pat Muffin's hand. "You got one of those too, do you? It's a wonder weasels and bunnies aren't more of an item, they've got he same attitude on passion. My Zeke just can't get enough."

Muffin gently tweaked Duke's whiskers and nuzzled at his snout. "Of course, Dukey. Ah, Mrs. O'Pogo, you are correct. A passion without bounds is how I would say it. I think it's a wonderful idea. But, er, what are the laws regarding... naturism on one's property? Would we need a wall?"

"Well, despite all our big families some areas can get pretty sparse. I'd suggest staying on the far side from the standard approach. Sheriff Nikostytär usually has her deputies be very lenient about innocent things like that. In this Burrow you'll probably meet Buck Roeberts. He's what we call a good ol' buck. He might seem stern but he's a nice fellow. Just put up a decorative fence and have a few pieces of small clothing you can throw on quickly," Pepper suggested.

"We'll set up a big bowl. A big, colorful bowl, and fill it with the silkiest, powderiest dust ever. And I'll sit there and watch ya bathe for hours," Duke rumbled, softly shivering.

"I don't actually bathe for hours," Muffin mumbled. "But I think I was just informed of what I'll get for our anniversary. So... is it possible to have one of these eyesores flattened and a better, smaller home and landscaping added?"

"We've been thinking about it, as you might imagine. But it takes, like we like to say, city money. I'm... sorry to seem like a leech but we do sort of need Zootopian rich folks to bring in some extra money. A few very rich mammals would be better managed than a pile of more modest folk. We like how the place feels," Pepper confessed.

"I... well, I understand. It's a matter of needing to keep the feel and gain the economic benefits. I promise to try my best to keep the feel as normal as possible," Muffin said.

"We're still a slightly undiscovered wonder. Add to that the ugly looks and the mistrust folks have in the places, both of them have very depressed prices. It's a real deal, even with the cost of demolition and construction," Pepper cheerily said.

"Uh... don't mean ta be rude 'r nothin' but... we'd get, like, a bathroom and stuff, right? I can't say nothin' about that; Happytown ain't the best fer that. But I kinda got used ta workin' toilets and hot water livin' with my puff," Duke said with slightly shifty eyes.

"I understand why you would ask that when going slightly off the beaten path. We have septic systems and water, as well as electricity, and we're well wired for phones and the internet. I'd suggest you see Sharla Ovine about that. We don't quite have a dedicated tech service right in town, but she knows all about that sort of thing," Pepper said.

"We'll have to think about all of that at a later time. For right now... let us start the process," Muffin resolutely said. "This will be unusual. I may not require a loan for the property, but may need to for demolition and construction."

Pepper flipped through the file folder with the manor's information and signed a few of the forms contained. "I presume you have your own Zootopian legal counsel. I'm representing the company that holds the deed and will be glad to get rid of this white isopod. Paying the taxes on it is a money sink."

"Well, I suppose it might be better to hire someone here. Can you suggest someone to handle those matters?" Muffin asked.

"Oh, you'll want Travis Dreyson. He's our local civil notary and legal expert. He handles contracts for a living. We have some things to discuss here, but I'll let him know you're coming later today," Pepper said, hitting a small bell on her desk.

An albino squirrel rushed over to Pepper's desk, dressed casually in black slacks, a white shirt and black suspenders, with a large bow tie at his throat. He looked relatively young but was clearly mature. "You wanted something, Mrs. O'Pogo?"

A small moment passed as Pepper wrote out a short note, folding it and passing it along to the squirrel. "A message for Mr. Dreyson, Farrell. I probably might not notice how long it takes you to come back, but getting it there is a priority," she said with a small wink.

Farrell took the note and nodded. "I'll rush it right over there and be back in a flash!"

"You know you can visit your grandpa if you want," Pepper mentioned.

"Grampy doesn't like it when I interrupt during business hours," Farrell sighed.

"Oh you know he loves you. Go on, get that message over to Travis," Pepper said with a shooing motion.

Duke watched the squirrel zip off and stroked his chin. "That guy related ta that old Almondine?"

Pepper nodded as she looked over the folder. "Oh yes. Farrell Almondine, Old Blanchard Almondine's oldest grandson. He's my new intern, replacing R... the..."

"Yes, the... the one in Murkmoor. Let it pass. Please, give me the forms," Muffin insisted, reaching out for the papers.

While Muffin and Duke got the paperwork started, Farrell rushed his way down the main street to _Dreyson and Manchas_ and dashed his way in.

"Hey there, Soft Serve. What's shakin' down at the agency?" Sylvia asked, casually sitting behind her desk with her paws up on a pillow-topped stool and her pregnant belly prominent under her maternity blouse. She casually filed her claws and admired them in the light from the big picture window.

Farrell cast a look around the room and turned to Sylvia. "Where's Mr. Dreyson? I have a note for him from Mrs. O'Pogo."

"Kenny!" Sylvia called out.

"Sylvia! What is it? Are you hurting? Did the babies kick? Are they coming early? Need me to feed you some blueberries?" Kenneth rushed to Sylvia's side, kneeling down and resting his cheek against Sylvia's belly, ears draped down over the heavy swell.

Sylvia softly stroked Kenneth's head and lightly chuckled. "Calm down, _daddy_. The kits are still on track for the expected delivery. Soft Serve from the real estate office needs to see Mr. Dreyson. Is he pounding out a quickie with the Mrs?"

"Just because you're pregnant doesn't mean I won't fire you, Miss Arcica," Travis huffed. He emerged from the back room with his wife Ermintrude, who was looking pleased with everything.

"I don't really keep track of you. I'm on light duty, and doing mostly filing. Mrs. Dreyson, you know what Kenny and I did, so I say it with all respect."

"Oh Sylvia... it was just a meeting about the orchard, and some kissing," Ermintrude chirped happily.

"Mm, yeah, I can see that. I could kiss Kenny for hours and hours," Sylvia purred, stroking slowly down Kenneth's ears.

Farrell stepped over to Travis and handed off the note. "A message from Mrs. O'Pogo, Mr. Dreyson."

"Yes, thank you, Mr. Almondine," Travis said, taking the piece of paper and giving it a quick read. "She's finally selling that eyesore the Arklay manor. Meister's nephew from Zootopia apparently has a rich girlfriend who intends to demolish it and put up a vacation home. Finally, some good news. This should get some bucks flowing in. She wants me as the rep for the purchase. There's a nice vote of confidence."

"Oh right, I heard about them. Some chinchilla. She's cleaning him up and turning him into a fancy weasel. Apparently it's funny, if Judy is to be believed," Sylvia said with a grin.

"Makes no difference to me. Anything to get the ball rolling. I'll get the sale and arrange all the demolition and construction. That should get the economy going around here," Travis happily said.

"Is there a message you have for Mrs. O'Pogo?" Farrell asked.

"She could have phoned if she wanted you to do anything important. She wants you to slack off a little bit. Pepper's the kind to give you lots of free time if you learn the trade," Sylvia said with a soft chuckle. "Go see your gramps and that surly vixen that'll probably take his head off some day."

"Fussi's just dealing with his attitude. It's nice someone can keep working there," Farrell said.

"You could work there," Sylvia offered.

It took a moment for Farrell to mumble out, "I can't deal with gramps..."

"Well, no one can deal with your abuelo, that's a fact of life," Jaguar said, having walked in quietly just as Farrell was speaking.

"That Fussi vixen can. She's got a tongue sharper than mine, and that's saying something," Sylvia chuckled.

Travis softly rubbed his head. "Where are your parents? You stopped in with them and then they vanished."

"Oh that was my fault. Ursula was visiting me, and they started talking about immigrants here in the Burrow. You didn't notice, Ermintrude arrived and you went to, ah... _talk_ ," Jaguar said, with air quotes and a waggle of his brows.

"We did talk," Travis stated firmly.

"And tongue-wrestle. We're among friends, we can say it," Ermintrude chirruped, gently nudging Travis with her hip.

"She's taking them around, finishing the tour," Jaguar concluded.

"They figured it was safe enough if they left me here with Kenny. It's not like I can get double pregnant. I'm not a marsupial," Sylvia chuckled.

"Wait, that can happen?" Kenny asked, lifting his head up.

"Mrs. O'Pogo told me all about it. She's got two wombs. Were she so inclined she could get pregnant in one then the other. Plus have one in the pouch. She said if she ever gets a mind to she and Mr. O'Pogo can hammer out a big family quickly," Sylvia replied, leaning in to kiss Kenny's cheek. "We need to do it the bunny and fox way, just go at it and never stop."

"Not too far off from the squirrel and weasel way," Ermintrude laughed, drawing a laugh from the others and a surprise hug from her husband.

Travis kissed his wife on the cheek and leaned against her. "Well, as long as you're sitting in, do you plan on doing any substantive work?"

"Of course. I'm pregnant, not useless. I just slack off because I can. I'm here on my day off, after all. I'll get started on anything you want," Sylvia said, arranging her desk to be more conducive to work.

"Nothing that's active, though you can start scheduling meetings with prospective demolition and construction crews. I want to get ahead of that," Travis said, quickly flipping into business mode. "Kenny, get the escrow forms and the property stuff. This is all about the land and the real property is an afterthought. They're shedding the white isopod as economically as they can and trying to get the most out of the ground."

"Yessir, Mr. Dreyson!" Kenneth cried, popping to his paws and throwing a quick salute. He dashed off to the back to gather the forms required.

"And me, amigo? This feels like a big project if it is to be with a rich Zootopian," Jaguar said, taking a seat at his desk by the big front window.

"Keep on top of your things but be ready if we get a big stack of contracts. Pepper won't make it a problem but she follows all the laws and details," Travis said, sliding into his own chair.

"So I'll... I'll go back to work..." Farrell said, shuffling awkwardly.

"Just go see your gramps. He has to love you, he's just perpetually suffering from crotch mites or something," Sylvia casually said, browsing construction crews on her computer.

"But, he's busy," Farrell mumbled, slowly making his way out of the office.

Travis sighed and shook his head as he looked out the window at Farrell. "I do wish old Blanchard was a bit nicer. But we can't all have loving parents... that talk about our partners like fresh fish in a creel."

"Oh, your dad's just happy. You're a big mammal, and that makes your family so happy, even if you don't have the name anymore. I hear your mother saying that she's related to the Dreysons every other sentence, and she calls one or another of my brothers over to prove it when someone doesn't believe it," Ermintrude chuckled.

Travis chuckled lightly and set to work on the forms that Kenneth delivered to him.

o o o

"I know I should know better than to ask, but are you for real? I wasn't sure what to think before but it's... strange," Nick said. He was in bed at the Hopps household after dark, sitting up against the carved headboard. He was dressed in a plain white sleeveless undershirt, and blueberry print boxer shorts. On his lap and resting against his chest was Judy. She was using his body like a headboard, sitting up and reading a book. She was dressed in her usual light cotton carrot-print nightdress and scalloped circular night-hat with the elastic-lined holes for her ears. She also had a set of half-moon spectacles perched on her short muzzle, the arms arching up over her ears and a chain running from the arch point around the back of her neck. The lenses looked to be oddly angled and had a slight silvering to them.

"Hmm, what's strange?"

"I'll just say it. You look like a grandma. And not a regular one, like one from an old storybook. The dress and the hat. And now glasses? You never wear glasses back home," Nick said, slightly amused.

"Well, it's sort of why Chief Bogo uses glasses. Some prey have slightly different eyes. I really should wear glasses when reading but I can manage without them. But at home... it's comfortable. As for the outfit, don't knock it! This is a Bunnyburrow staple. Every mother has an outfit like this, and every doe wears it because that's what good does do. It's not a popular look in the city but home is different. You can be comfortable at home."

Nick thought about that reply for a while, idly nibbling on the tip of one of Judy's ears. "Does that mean you don't think that Zootopia is home? Or just that our place isn't home? But I don't remember you ever wearing that at your place, either."

"You realize the city isn't Bunnyburrow, right?" Judy wiggled her ears, lightly slapping and teasing Nick's face. "They don't eat gelatin salads, they don't have home-shops and they really are different. I went there intentionally, and I wanted to be comfortable there. It was new so I did new things. But this is my old home. I do things differently here. Why not? I still love this outfit. What's the matter, slick? Don't want to think of me as a granny? You'd better be with me that long, and you'd better stick with it while we have kittens."

Nick nuzzled the ears gently tapping his face, his hands gently massaging Judy's shoulders. "Let's get there, first. Gotta make the kittens before they make their own. You and I need to have the fun before we let ourselves get old, gray, saggy and still going at it like foxes and bunnies."

Judy sighed, rolling her shoulders into the massage. "Mmm, you... you're not wrong. I know if Gam-Gam was still here Pop-Pop wouldn't stop either. But just relax. We can get to that in time."

Nick kissed down Judy's ears, licking every few kisses. "Whatcha reading, fluff? Saw you take it off the shelf but didn't get a look at it."

"It's a book that the family... had stored for the children. You can tell we're average Bunnyburrow bunnies. We have weird feelings about every species in the world. Just ask Jake why Pop-Pop is so happy he's getting Princess down the aisle. We're not too opposed to the idea of being with different creatures, just a little. But we all know who the Inters are, and the Outsiders. We might not have been so eager in the past but we still had denning. Out in the real sticks they even got married, quietly. But the relationships still happened. So it got written about. Adventure stories, mysteries, kissy novels the bucks made faces at and the does sighed over. Mom and dad kept them locked up in a special bookcase and once they figured out who liked what, we got to read them. So we could see it was okay. A sweet fantasy for us to savor."

"So what's this one that got you ready to be married to a handsome fox?" Nick asked with a slight tickle of Judy's sides.

" _Signy Norge and the Red Rocketeer_ ," Judy replied, showing off the cover featuring an oil-painted space scene with a rabbit in a classic bubble-helmet and tight space suit firing a laser into the middle distance while a smiling fox in red coveralls and a red mask stood in front of an old sci-fi rocket with an ion trail.

"Really? I would have figured they'd have more subtlety than that," Nick mumbled, looking on the cover incredulously.

"Well, it's one of those spicy ones. They didn't just keep them locked up to wait and see who would get the most use out of them," Judy admitted with a flush of her ears. "But it's a good one. Signy's a big deal in the rim-world defense patrol, and she deals with smugglers like the tod she eventually finds is the pirate-hunting Red Rocketeer. It's a little old-fashioned in how it shows foxes but... he's a real charming fella. Real... articulate," she teased, tickling Nick's face again.

"And I bet the novel's very not condescending," Nick chuckled, wrapping his arms around Judy's middle. "I can't believe there's a market for this."

"What? Trashy novels with niche combinations? It's a cottage industry. You should ask Jenny Thicket or Sharla about that. Since most of them occupy some area or another covered by sci-fi or fantasy they know them well. Some species even have series like these. Deer focus on larger predators and other species of deer. Sheep are mostly wolves and goats. Sharla said she got lucky there was a sheep and fox thing. Since I've read this thing and a few others like a very racy buck and vixen one they want me to come to some convention out in the city."

"Wow. They want you to join the nerd collective?" Nick asked.

"Oh Nick... yes, they do. Them and Bobby Catmull. Gideon's going too, because Sharla is. I may not be hung up on things like this but I get the appeal."

"You want me to dress up, don't you?"

"If only. But we'd never be able to make anything that looks this good. You don't have to go, you know, it's perfectly fine."

Nick softly kissed the top of Judy's head and held the book up to her face, his hands acting like a rostrum. "What? Not go somewhere with my fantastic wife and her nerdy friends? No way, carrots. You're suck with me."

"You could say that. Let me get back to the Red Rocketeer showing Signy the first love she's ever had. Then you can be the Red Rocketeer and show me the best love I've ever had," Judy said with a smile, opening the book in Nick's hands.

"Like always, granny carrots, and forever."

 **Author's Notes**

 **Farrell Almondine-** He's sort of named after a famous ice cream parlor, known for a retro 20's aesthetic. I wanted a name that suggested old timey ice cream and also sounded a little dorky.

 **Inters-** The place between someone being with their own kind and someone being an Outsider, that is someone dating roughly within their diet and general form, if not strict genetic sphere. A bunny and a pika would hardly raise eyebrows, same with a bunny and a bilby. Those would be Inter.

 **Denning-** "Politely Ignored" unmarried cohabitation, roughly socially equivalent to Boston Marriage or Confirmed Bachelors. A little like the Zootopian concept of Division Families but the stigma is less pronounced. Essentially dead in a post-Judy era.

 **Signy Norge-** My old Sci-Fi is showing. An overt reference to Signy Mallory, captain of the Norway, the creation of C. J. Cherryh.

 **The Red Rocketeer-** I liked the Rocketeer, in concept, because I'm a fan of the old Mystery Man aesthetic and pulps in general. It seemed a good name for a really old school sci-fi masked vigilante, back when Mystery Man pulps mixed freely with sci-fi and fantasy. It was a heady time. Plus, some of the adult readers will get the joke, and why Nick doesn't believe it's real.


	6. Re: Union, Part 6

I do not own Zootopia, that belongs to Disney. This a fan work made solely for the sake of amusement.

 **The Burrows**

 **Chapter Six: Re: Union, Part Six**

 **By: Gabriel LaVedier**

Rimpssie Specsson lived at his family's home, as many of his culture did while unmarried. The curl-coated, strawberry-toned wolf was not exactly the most forward of mammals. By family estimation, he absolutely had to live at home, be domestic and learn the running of a household. By their reckoning his willowy form, soft tone and general softness meant that he was to stay in the nest until he moved in with his wife. She would then take care of funding the home while he managed every aspect within. As was tradition, the strong provided, and the softer guided.

He wrapped his willowy form in a soft, fluffy, moss-colored robe and looked at his fluffy fur in the mirror near his door. The family home was a stone one, the upper area carved from a large erratic, making it unique in the area and giving some measure of prominence. The rest of the house was sunk into the earth, like many homes in Bunnyburrow. His plastered walls were smoothly polished, holding back the packed earth behind. He kept his room neat and orderly, by nature, which was easy enough in the modest space. He had a desk where he kept his sewing and knitting, his bed with a quilt he had made himself, a closet of nearly-ordered clothes and a small bureau with other clothing articles.

Leaving his room he headed upwards to the kitchen area, which was placed near the edge of the erratic, where it was well-ventilated. He hummed softly to himself as he went about his daily routine, scrambling together several eggs and laying out some thin pieces of smoked fish. He chopped up a few vegetables and slowly folded them into the beaten eggs. Once he had gotten oil heated up in a few small pans he poured out the egg mix in carefully controlled amounts, moving the cooking eggs to test their preparedness.

He cut the smoked fish into long strips and laid them in the center of the cooked egg after a few flips. He folded the thin pieces of cooked egg around the fish and laid them out on plates. He garnished them with whole dry-roasted cockroaches and a small fan of crickets atop each one. A small sprinkle of salt and pepper finished it off, and he went after to fill up the coffee pot.

"Ahhh, delicious. And just right on time," Specs said, the wiry, toned wolf sitting down at the table, dressed in an undershirt and striped boxers.

"Coffee will be ready quickly, isä. I hope breakfast is good," Rimpssie said, slightly shyly.

"Your poro is getting a very good house-minder," Essie said, the reddish, curly wolf female plopping down at the kitchen table, dressed in a red checkered flannel nightdress and a scalloped brimmed red checkered flannel night hat. "It will be sad to have you go. But you must move to your wife's home, manage her household. There is space for us, yes?"

"Yes, äiti, yes," Rimpssie said with a soft laugh. "She is our kind. She loves tradition and has said she will be happy to have you live with us. Some day. After... a poikanen or two. Or three."

"Three?" Essie asked, looking aside at her husband.

"Is there... something wrong with this poro of yours? Is she not strong?" Specs asked.

"She's a sheriff! She has responsibilities. And big families are not that common anymore. She will say how many we have," Rimpssie said, somewhat firmly.

"Of course she will! She will carry them. But you have so much power, my little one. You can say it would be good to have four... five, perhaps six," Essie said with a smile.

"We will discuss it," Rimpssie mumbled, head down, eating his omelet.

"It is most fortunate you have your poro. No other strong prey would appreciate such a meal. All of deer kind appreciate the taste of fish and insects," Specs noted, eating rather quickly, talking with his mouth full.

"Tsk! Mies! Manners! We do not act such! We are very civilized susia, the kind that will be living in the home of a respectable, powerful poro who has married our son," Essie hissed, eating slow and grandly, back straight, muzzle slightly elevated.

"Ah! Leave me be, nainen! This is my den, and we are alone! She will never see," Specs barked, still gobbling greedily.

"She will always know what you are! She is wise. A warrior-poet. Temper yourself. You say you are a skald, have dignity as one!" Essie snapped.

"I am! And she knows! I have praised her! _Proud Valkyrie! Poro, of strength made! Specs hails, sire of your house-minder! Make glory for your name! Make great our line! Your husband we made! Yield love to us!_ " Specs howled, proudly.

Essie huffed and went on eating, still looking imperious. "You used no kenning. What a poor skald you are. You cannot honor your future daughter, who must be praised."

"She is a true warrior, she does not need such things. She needs praise, honor... and bribery," Specs wurfed, finishing off his omelet.

"You don't need to bribe her! She's in love with me! You know she only wants your love, your approval and your consent before the Houngan or the Fiffarah," Rimpssie snarled, his curly hackles puffing somewhat as he rose to to get the coffee. He poured out three mugs of it and set out two of them in front of his parents.

"You don't understand such things. Yes, she loves you, but it's always best to be certain. Greasing a hoof or two never hurt a thing," Specs sagely said, taking a long, slow sip of his black coffee.

"We only want the best for you, little one," Essie said gently, patting her son's paw and smiling at him.

Rimpssie tucked his muzzle a little and poured a little sugar in his coffee before taking a slow sip. "I will have a beautiful wife. A strong wife with a good job and respect and a campaign I need to help her run. It should be very easy this cycle. I wonder if anyone will even bother running against her."

"Hmm... does she dare face the voters with you on her arm?" Essie asked.

"She was too worried. No one would have cared. Now they care even less. Look at the two weddings we will attend. It might look better, a soft, sweet husband on her arm, telling everyone how great she is," Rimpssie sighed.

"Great, yes. She will be great when she takes us in. Will she want to keep this home as a private place? Perhaps your children will inherit it," Specs said, leaning back in his chair and nursing his coffee.

"He tries his best. It's why I still love him," Essie said, smiling over at her husband.

The family calmly sipped their coffee and finished off their modest breakfast, quiet and calm. A knock at the door had all their ears swivel over in the direction of the door, Essie rising from her chair. "Who is there?"

"Deputy Roeberts, ma'am!" Buck called from behind the door.

"Does she... have him as well? Perhaps there is no wrong in that. She is powerful," Specs said with a pop of his brow ridge and a sly smile.

"Oh isä..." Rimpssie sighed. "Deputy Buck has his own love. She's a tiny deer with fangs. He doesn't want a poro with carved antlers. That's for me."

Essie opened the door to reveal Buck in his dress khakis, his buttons and badge polished up nicely. He had on his wide-brimmed hat and a pair of shades. He gave the brim a tip, and smiled. "Mornin', ma'am! Hope I'm not interrupting your family morning."

"Not at all. What can we do for you, Deputy?" Essie asked.

"Sheriff sent me over. She had a lot of to-do happening with campaign stuff, had to get all the stuff formalized so she's on the ticket. She wanted me to ask about your son. His wardrobe, if he needs anything, does he want a ride in the squad car or does he want her to pick him up in the Tunturi, that sort of thing."

"She's the strong one, she must make these decision for him!" Specs called from the table.

"We're modern mammals! I can make these choices for myself," Rimpssie said, rising and coming to the door himself. "Hello, Deputy. I don't mind riding to the weddings in the Tunturi, it's a nice car. I'll be wearing the good convoking clothes for the Solaterra service and the powder blue suit she helped me pick out for the Peaceground ceremony. I don't need anything else."

"Blue? A guest does not arrive in a wild color. You must be august. Even if you are soft, you must be upright," Specs said.

"Peaceground worship encourages colors. Even for weddings. They want lots of bright colors and decoration," Rimpssie explained.

"What a strange new faith," Specs shrugged, sipping his coffee casually.

"Don't quite understand it myself, I'm just a Solaterran buck. But, that's how Kenny Hopps wants it. Lucky I have an invite to the whole thing," Buck said with a smile. "Hayma said she'd have some kind of thing from back home that would be good for it. Can't wait to see that. Think that's about all I needed out here."

"Good to have you around, Deputy. Tell my kultaseni I can't wait to go out to it. And... our next date," Rimpssie chuckled, his ears folding and nose drying slightly.

Buck chuckled softly and tipped his hat. "Absolutely. Have a good rest of the day, folks." The roe deer stepped away from the erratic and made his way back to the department car. It had been a nice distraction. Things were, as ever, nice and peaceful in the part of the Burrow he normally worked, and he had little enough to do. It wasn't always an option to drive out and see Hayma; that could upset Peony Seedcache, the Sheriff or even Hayma herself. Playing messenger was pretty nice. Leisurely.

He settled himself behind the wheel and eased his way down the road, passing by a rather eerie stand of skeletal, twisted, dying trees. It was very spooky, but the sheriff explained that the tree brains that Rimpssie grew only grew on rotting trees, and he needed a good stand of them that constantly pushed along the property of the family. She had fried the thing up and had him taste it. As she had said, lemony with a meaty bite to it. Tasty enough, probably something he could serve to Hayma. She could use it in her cooking, too.

Life was a bit like that, he reckoned. Sometimes odd, spooky, very mysterious, but if they were understood sometimes they could be comprehended, and could be delicious. He wasn't normally a thoughtful mammal, and he knew it. He had been a good old buck, raised like a lot of folks in the Burrows. He wasn't bad, but he was basic. Nothing wrong with it. The sheriff trusted him. Hayma loved him. He wasn't doing too bad.

" _Deputy Roeberts, calling Deputy Roeberts, come in, Buck."_

Buck picked up the car radio and clicked it on. "Sarah? Me. What's the word?" That was an unusual interruption. Dispatch didn't often call for him. Other deputies in other parts of the Tri-Burrows got calls, mostly because he was always with the sheriff at the main station.

" _Need ya downtown in Bunnyburrow. Nothing too big, but old Fallow's got a bug up his bottom again and he's getting mouthy about it, and I don't know if his grandkid can keep him from getting too heavy about it."_

Buck sighed and slowly shook his head. "Again... I'll get on it, Sarah. Do I need the lights and sirens?"

" _Might not hurt. It'll startle the main drag but might shut up that old buck. Anything that helps."_

"Right. I'll get to it, Sarah. Buck out," Buck said, flicking the switch to turn on the lights and sirens. It wasn't a big thing, but it was a bother. So much for a peaceful and quiet day. It was his job, sure, but he loved a good loaf like anyone that had grown up in the slowed-down environment of the sticks.

He screamed through the winding packed-dirt roads, taking the turns with the practiced ease of a native, missing the trees by a narrow margin while only using one hoof. His other arm was out the window, tapping on the side and looking like the kind of visual cliché city folk loved to depict. Sometimes it was true. The Sheriff wasn't a big fan of it, but she wasn't there.

He made good time back to the main drag, dropping his speed as he drove onto the road and attracted all eyes to him from the siren and lights going. He brought the car to a halt when he spotted the normally-reclusive old fallow buck, Arthur. The stooped old man in his out-of-date white suit and string tie, was being restrained by his strapping, long-suffering grandson Charles, more sensibly attired in slightly dressy black slacks and a button-up long-sleeved shirt with a black bow tie at his throat. Both shared the strange fallow antlers that looked like pale moose antlers swept back in a way that also recalled reindeer antlers.

The two were on the sidewalk near _Almondine's_ , faced by Duke and Muffin. Muffin was tightly compressing Duke deep into her puffy fluff and clothing while he clawed and squirmed in the direction of the deer. "Just one rake, doll! Just one! Swear on all yer puff just one!"

"Your gallantry is appreciated but not needed here!" Muffin cried.

"Let the needleteeth loose! I'll toss him so high he'll see the satellites that sheep keeps bragging about!" Arthur honked, the old buck barely managing to move the younger deer.

"Now everyone just settle!" Buck cried, stepping between the two pairs. "This kind of thing is not what the Tri-Burrows is all about. Now... I've been hearing about you. Weaselton, from the city, and your lovely lady with some sense in her head. We expect better out of your kind here. That name comes with a long line of sensible mammals."

"I got plenty-a sense in my head! That old shovel-head hasn't got any in his!" Duke yelled, shaking a fist in Arthur's direction.

"Quiet you," Buck said to Duke with a slight scowl. He turned that same scowl on Arthur, letting it deepen. "And you... I don't expect much out of you but you don't just yell at tourists. Least of all when they're kin to our prominent citizens. What crawled up your glands and died this time, Arthur?"

"You respect your elders, young Roeberts! I know your kin raised you better than that!" Arthur yelled, scowling at Buck. "I'm expressing myself! I still have that right! More than right. You know our family has great and terrible power in all these Burrows!"

"A generation ago, maybe, if then," Buck snorted. "You ain't as rich as the earth anymore, Arthur. It's time to realize bigger names than yours are important now. Hopps, Dreyson, Seedcache, Weaselton, Spikel..."

"Lanige," Muffin said, icily. "You will know that name and remember it well, you terrible old man!"

"You don't dictate to me, young lady! You or that needleteeth of yours!" Arthur yelled.

"I know old talk like that. That's not how we talk around here anymore, and you know it. If I could cite you for that kind of nonsense we'd have a solid gold roof on the Sheriff's main station," Buck said with a shake of his head. "What started all this?"

"It was a simple misunderstanding," Charles said, slowly shaking his head. "We were out checking on some of our assets and paying for the deliveries we get from _Weaselton's Wares_ to the old high house, when grandfather made a comment. A small conversation started getting louder and louder... you know how grandfather can be..."

"Mind your tongue, boy! You can be turned out onto the dusty trail without a second thought. You live according to what I say," Arthur threatened. "I said what I said. I told those two we didn't need new faces here. We don't want their kind. We don't need city mammals coming in and ruining everything. And we don't need rodents and Outsiders!"

Duke renewed his struggling, gnashing his teeth at Arthur. "Say it again! Say it again and I'll show ya why ya can't say that about my babe!"

"If only you were a Purist... I'd hammer you into a cell with that slimy Seedcache in Murkmoor. You keep that talk up and maybe I still will," Buck grunted.

"It's legal enough to be a Purist, you know it. As long as I'm not hiring anyone. I know the law. But I'm not a Purist! You'd love that. But no. You stick with your own hooved kind. You stick with a proper diet. There's no connection between the diets. Predators and predators, prey and prey."

"Is he... a frequent figure in this town?" Muffin asked, still looking sour.

"Hardly ever see his face," Buck said. "You folks won't have to deal with him much while you're here."

"We plan to be here more. We're arranging to buy some property and build a vacation home," Muffin proudly said.

"No more Zootopians! We don't need any more of you ruining out little hamlet! This little town, this ancient town of good morals and proper action doesn't need you foreigners and immigrants sweeping in and making it dirty and destroyed!" Arthur yelled, struggling once more.

"Sweet sacred Night I'd love ta give ya a one-way ticket ta Happytown. It ain't ruined 'cause the immigrants settled in it. I'll buy tickets to that," Duke hissed, sweeping off his clothes after Muffin slowly set him loose. "I'm from Zootopia, and the family's from here. I belong here. And if I do, my dusty dame does too, or this place can go ta rot and ruin."

"You belong, Mr. Weaselton, trust me, you'd fit in," Buck chuckled. "As for you, Arthur, give up and go back to that house of yours. You hate leaving it anyhow. You're out here so rarely how would you even know that Weaselton and his lady moved into town?"

"All of you... you're all a plague," Arthur snorted. "Zootopians, Outsiders, unequal-halves, all manner of foreign invaders, the whole mass of you! Like rats in the walls, squatting unseen but swarming where you were not invited!"

"Back to the house! Charlie, drag your gramps back and keep him quiet! Disturbing the peace is a thing, and the Sheriff won't say a word about seeing him in the slammer," Buck demanded, pointing out of town in the direction of the Fallow mansion.

A further comment by Arthur was cut off by Charles quickly jerking his grandfather away, pulling the older buck down the street. "Sorry about all this trouble, Deputy, folks. Sorry, sorry..."

"You stop that, Fallows don't apologize for anything!" Arthur cried as he was hauled away.

Buck watched the two go while slowly shaking his head. "Now... you're still planning to buy property here, right?" He asked, turning a nervous smile on Muffin and Duke.

"One old idiot ain't scarin' me off. I lived in Happytown and had big bears that wanted ta bust my knees. This place ain't near as scary as that," Duke said with a casual hand motion.

"We have faced silent but acid disapproval from some members of the social elite. As I understand it, he is no longer in such a sphere," Muffin said with a similar dismissive wave. "We have begun the process. Nothing will stop us. I promise you, we will do good things for this community, if only adding to the economy."

"Hey, we trust the Weaselton name 'round these parts. Don't know you, ma'am, but you seem like just the kind of mammal we need around here," Buck said with a big smile.

"Gonna set up a bungalow and some landscaping out where that... Arklay mansion is," Duke explained. "We're payin' ta have it flattened. Gonna improve the look of the place, so that happy possum tells us."

Buck nodded his head slowly. "Hey now... be good to have that eyesore out of the Burrows. Get us a new piece of real estate and some nice neighbors."

"Yes, there is an issue of some importance that will come to the fore in the future..." Muffin said, stepping closer to Buck and looking around.

"Oh, sounds serious... what's the problem, ma'am?" Buck asked, leaning in.

Muffin took another look around and speaking quietly. "Well, you see, deputy... it's so remote, compared to the city. We have plans for a large verandah, with a screen, a swing, a carved dust bathing pool... it's our property and we've enjoyed time at a location known for... Naturism..."

Buck looked confused, turning his head slightly, glands slightly fluttering. "Uh, sorry, ma'am. Just a country buck. Not quite sure I understand you. That some kinda diet?"

Muffin laughed breathlessly, while Duke gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Hey, let me be blunt, doll. It's my old job. She means we wanna be naked outside. This club in the city has a place where ya can get naked, hang out and just enjoy the sun. She can take a dust bath, we can cuddle in the hammock, be on the swing... so just the fur, or we gotta get some suits and stuff?"

Buck broke into a booming laugh, slapping his thigh solidly as he laughter waned slightly. "Oh! Oh that... that happens a lot more than you might think in these parts. Skinny dipping and streakers are out there all the time. Sure, we've got laws, but the sheriff hardly cares. Most deputies don't either. We have a saying out here. There's a difference between being naked and being naked 'cause. Naked just means your clothes ain't there. Naked 'cause, means you're up to no good, and we kinda care about that."

"It seems that we can lounge in the fur with little harm," Muffin said, kissing Duke on the cheek.

"Glad I could ease your mind, ma'am. I know you'll both love it out here. Good place for couples. We're a growth area, like Pepper's always telling us," Buck said. "You headed anywhere in particular?"

"Strolling. Just strolling. It's a lovely day and a lovely place for it. We may have nice locations in the city, but none exactly like this. And it's so quiet and sparse. A lovely change," Muffin said with a sigh.

"Personal question, but important. You two members of The Interspecies Realtionship Support Network out there in the city?" Buck asked. "We have a thriving chapter out here, and we'd love to see you at the meetings. Your card from the city will get you in."

"Oh! We are so in there, weekly meetin's and volunteer work," Duke said with a rapid nod.

"I am a very generous patron of the Network. I was before I met my dear Dukey and have even more loyalty now. I'd be glad to donate furniture or other niceties. Uncle Meister... told us what Rob Hopps did..." Muffin said, trailing off.

"It's all culled antlers, ma'am, but some nice things won't be refused. Hayma and I make sure we hit every meeting and do a lot of the volunteer things when we have some time for it," Buck said with an easy smile.

"Uncle Meister's been talking 'bout stuff in town, so we know. Another Zootopian out here. Ain't never seen a deer with fangs unless they were part somethin'," Duke said.

"Yeah, Hayma's really special. Never thought I'd find a doe like her," Buck sighed. "She really does something to me. Got me to be like other deer and eat fish and bugs, made me realize I was too narrow. Not bad, just narrow."

"And you wonder why we want to have a vacation property here," Muffin said with a small laugh. "Thank you for defusing that uncomfortable and unfortunate situation."

Buck tipped his hat and smiled. "It's what I'm here for, ma'am. If you need any information, I can help you get your bearings, that is if your uncle hasn't told you."

"Yes, my dear Dukey requires a Convocation chamber. He's in the process of removing self-imposed anathema and attends on the major holidays. We both need a Peaceground church for weekly service and special days of piety. We'll be seeing the church for one of the weddings but as for the other..."

"It's a bit of a drive," Buck admitted. "They're over out in Predburrow, where most of the convokers are living. There's a bus that comes through to take everyone to convoking, but I suspect you'll have your own car."

"Odd as it is to say, I don't own a car. In the city it's easy to use the public transportation to reach anywhere. We may need to buy some cheap little thing... and learn to drive it in the interim between now and the completed construction," Muffin sheepishly said.

"If I may, ma'am, get yourself a scooter. I got myself a Bombo Antilope in a sale a while back, works great out here. Get a bike, a sidecar, you and Mr. Weaselton are all set. That'll take you everywhere you need around these parts. The stations are well in range," Buck suggested.

"Worth a thought," Duke said, stroking his chin. "We can talk it over later. Sorry ta keep ya."

"Nothing much doing 'round the Burrow. Just delivered some news to the Sheriff's boyfriend, you'll meet them at the meetings you come to, can't go out to see Hayma too often so a little distraction never hurts. I'll drive back out to the main station. Enjoy your stroll Mr. Weaselton, Miss Lanige."

Muffin chittered good-naturedly and nodded back. "And a good day to you, Deputy, ah..."

"Roeberts, ma'am," Buck said, tipping his hat. "Buck Roeberts."

o o o

Sheriff Beatrix had her little slice of Springland running smoothly, as ever, and aimed to keep running the law enforcement of that place for as long as she could. She was at her desk back at the main Tri-Burrows Sheriff Station, working on a pile of paperwork.. The place still looked like a rustic-designed version of a classic late-deco type of building. Black and white checkered floors, a decorative white picket fence separating the outer area from the area for her and Buck's desks, and her proud wall of antlers, each carved and painted set representing a year of service to the Tri-Burrows, slightly padded out with some extra from home that just commemorated years.

She was writing out a long bit of text when her rather old landline phone started ringing. She hit the speaker button and said, "You've got the Sheriff. What's the emergency?"

" _No emergency sheriff. It's Carlton, the registrar's secretary."_

"Oh yes, Carlton, I was just filling in the forms. Gotta get ahead of it. If you're early you can never be late. It should be a very easy run, but I don't want to assume too many things. I'd prefer to think about the weddings I'll be at," Beatrix sighed.

" _I mean, we haven't had official submissions yet. A few for old Lawrence Grange's seat. I see you talked Stu Hopps into throwing his hat into the ring."_

"The only choice I thought the Burrows needs. Grange was attacking his family through his hate, and he intended to attack me. Now my choice is going to replace him, I'm sure," Beatrix said with a stern forcefulness.

" _Your name has enough weight, and so does his. Make sure you submit the forms for the formal indication of endorsement so you can say it and he can say you said it when you make your ads and things."_

"I'd imagine he already submitted his paperwork as a private citizen saying he endorses me. Meister already told me the Chamber of Commerce voted unanimously to endorse me as a group. He's laying his own name on the line. Big Daddy, too. He can't wait to stump for me. Putting away Seedcache made him happier than I've ever seen him, and that's a feat."

" _I might take a little joy from you, Sheriff. We don't have any real opponents... but we're already seeing some things against you. I don't know if you've seen them but there's already crude posters about Wolf-Lover and Bug-Muncher and Fish-Eater. They may not have anyone up against you but they're already trying to get folks against you."_

"Perkele... They can try. Let them try. They'll find me every inch the Valkyrie my future father-in-law thinks I am. I'll come through this still the Sheriff and they'll have to live with the cold fear that I'll find out who they are. I can't do anything to them except write them up for slander if anything gets there. I'm not petty. I'm not mean. But I hope they're afraid as soon as that message comes down saying I'm the Sheriff again. I'll have another pair of antlers on my wall."

" _You've got my vote, Sheriff. You always do. Now... you said you had all the paperwork on the way?"_

"I'll have Travis notarize the forms and seal the envelope to send it all up. By then everyone should be on the ballot and I can spend time talking up Stu Hopps and planning my own wedding."

" _Should be a sight, Sheriff. Big gathering?"_

"Our families, Bobby Catmull for music, Jenny Thicket to stop him eating all the food, Gideon to make most of the food, Sharla. Deputy Roeberts and his little doe. Probably Bonnie and Stu. Hmm... this wedding may grow a bit bigger than I thought..." Beatrix mused, slowly stroking her chin.

" _If these two to-dos are any indication, I guess they always do. Always a bit more complicated than a mammal imagines they'll be. Maybe one of them should have run off to the JP."_

"It's the same thing for Jake and Princess," Beatrix said with a hearty laugh. "Stu managed to wrangle it so that Rebecca Cuniculus is doing their ceremony."

" _The Lead Fif? He... wow. I know she's a generous doe but doing a wedding?"_

"The Hopps clan carries weight in the church. It only makes sense. Is it the election cycle for the JP? I never notice, not like anything really matters."

" _Yup. Miss Cuniculus is gonna hand over to Houngan Luparov. Again. Well, traditions. We all love 'em, right?"_

"Not all of them. But enough of them," Beatrix said. "Thank you for the call, Carlton. I'll have the papers there soon."

 **Author's Notes**

" **Sarah? Me."-** Unashamedly an Andy Griffith Show reference. Given Buck is a little bit Barney Fife it's only appropriate.

 **Carlton-** How old am I? I watch a lot of classic television. Rhoda's perpetually sloshed doorman, as voiced by the incomparable Lorenzo Music.

 **Bonus Game! Find the H. P. Lovecraft references!**


	7. One Night in Tanukitown- Part 1

I do not own Zootopia, that belongs to Disney. This a fan work made solely for the sake of amusement.

 **The Burrows**

 **Chapter Seven: Bachelors- One Night In Tanukitown, Part One**

 **By: Gabriel LaVedier**

The train depot at Bunnyburrow was always busy, at any of the four times of day. Matin, Day, Vesper, Night. It made no difference. The Zootopia express hit the node that was Bunnyburrow, was turned around at the massive roundhouse that was the pride of the burrow and went back into service with passenger cars reattached, occasionally stopping as freight trains packed with produce and goods chugged off to the big city.

The departure platform for one of the standard commuter class cars was packed with mammals, women saying goodbye to men, by and large.

"I'll hear if you do anything wrong, you hear me, Kenny?" Sylvia said, with mock-sternness.

"Well sweet jeepers, Sylvia, what am I gonna do? I've gotta come back here and marry you. Doesn't leave time for much else," Kenneth said, kissing his arctic vixen love. Like some of the others he was in what passed for decent clothes in the Bunnyburrow estimation, jeans and a shirt with buttons and medium sleeves. He had added his own touch, a brightly colored bow tie and a tall-crowned felt hat with a reddish-orange band.

"You so much as look at another weasel and I'll rip your ears off, and Pop-Pop will do something worse," Princess sternly said, holding her heated glare before she wrapped Jake up with a hug and kissed his cheek. "You stay with our cousin. He knows Zootopia, and knows how to keep bones unbroken and your head attached to your body."

"Don't worry, I got this. I don't owe nobody money no more, I look good, got some scratch. It's fine," Duke said, seeming reluctant to stop kissing and holding Muffin. He eventually pulled from the puffiness of her embrace and stood there, a step up from the rest of the fellows. Tailored black slacks, a fitted white shirt with sleeves and silver cufflinks, a skinny tie with a silver tie-pin topped with a small diamond, and a nice black vest with a slight sheen from the silken constituents. "Where were we goin' again?"

"Vineland," Jake said, kissing Princess up and down her long neck. "Seemed exotic enough. Deputy Buck suggested it."

"I wanna thank you for inviting me. You didn't have to," Buck said, leaning down to give Hayma kisses along her fangs. He was in his uniform, a better fitting version of the one he had had before. "Never been to Zootopia all that much. Quick visits for Sheriff stuff, being in court for the trial..."

"That's why you're invited," Jake said, pulling away from Princess to join the rest of the guys.

"Oh, Tanukitown. Little bit pricey in some of it but not bad," Duke said. "Never spent much time there. Happytown for me. Savannah Central. Tundratown... not anymore."

"Judy told the story. Just keep you snout clean, _cousin_ ," Sylvia said with an ivory grin. "You're better off now. Just stay in fancyland and your new mansion here."

"It ain't gonna stay a mansion. We're gonna have a house with a fence and all that. Gonna be sweet," Duke said, with a happy wiggle of his kinked whiskers.

"You have all the information, yes? Street names, a guide, the phrasebook, my personal phrases?" Hayma asked, continuing to kiss Buck as she queried.

"Don't worry, darling. I have it all. I'm sure this will all go smoothly," Buck said, finally standing up and stepping away from the tiny muntjac.

"Not that I don't trust the deputy, but you have actual police power. Keep everyone in line and together," Judy said to Nick, adjusting his tie. He was back in his old hustler outfit, loud and brash.

"I never spent much time in Tanukitown either. But you've got two natives leading this little gaggle of country folks. Finnick might even be up for joining in," Nick said with his usual slick smile.

"Please don't get my brothers dye-cut, arrested or passed out in their own mess," Judy pleaded.

"Fun and games only, carrots, fun and games. Just out to have a good time," Nick promised.

"Don't rightly know why yer bringin' me..." Gideon said. He hadn't gotten as made up as the rest. He was in his usual fire-resistant black slacks and heavy woolen checked flannel shirt with rolled-up sleeves and the top button open to show off his undershirt.

"Because Judy invited me to the party and I didn't want you to feel left out," Sharla said, casually adjusting Gideon's outfit, getting it all looking just right.

"More the merrier, my blueberry pie buddy," Nick said, slapping Gideon on the back and sliding up to an across-the-shoulders hold, leading him slowly down the platform.

"Be good, Dukey. I trust you to keep everyone safe," Muffin called as the group boarded the train.

"Not, not Nick, or Deputy Roeberts?" Judy asked.

"My sweet weasel has spilled the whole of his soul to me. He has survived a very rough life," Muffin explained. "I've no doubt your Nick has been through very much. Hatred, bigotry, abuse, all because he is a fox. Duke is the same, but as I understand, your charming fox had good influences, and came to his criminality late. My father-in-law is in prison, rightly so. His mother vanished, by her will. Your Nick had love and reformed. My dearest reformed..."

Judy gently reached out to pat Muffin on the arm, slowly nodding her head. "Those two can take care of everything. He can take care of more than his share, but Nick always helps out..."

The group made their way up to a seating area, slightly jostling as the train car was shunted along he track. _"Car reattachment in progress. Please take your seats and wait for normal operation to move around. Please have your tickets ready and occupy your seats. Once your ticket has been punched you may move about the train. Thank you for using Zootrak. Our estimated time of arrival at Savannah Central Station is two hours and thirty-five minutes barring unforeseen delays."_

"It don't seem so far, but it ain't exactly close," Gideon said, his ticket in his hand and slightly raised.

"Speed makes distance kinda irrelevant," Jake noted, looking out the window to watch them pass through the depot on the way to reconnection.

"You get used to it. Carro- Judy convinced me to get a pass so we can come out more often. I'll probably bring mom on one of these trips. It makes a great way to eat up days off. It's like taking a vacation every Sundas and Frededas but we don't have to pay for a hotel and get free meals," Nick said, casually leaning back on the padded seat, slightly the wrong size for the section.

"One of these days dad'll put you to work. He's not big on loafing," Jack huffed.

"Oh be nice. He's family!" Kenneth chirped. "He's a hard-working tod, putting his life on the line for the nice folks in the city. The least his family can do is give him a place to sleep and a hot meal. I'd say he's earned that."

"Hey, thanks. Never knew I wanted brothers, but now you're my favorite," Nick said, reaching out to give the confused buck a fist-bump. It took manually making a fist and tapping them together but he picked up on it eventually.

"Wish Hayma was coming with me. It's a bachelor outing, I know. But she's from there. She knows more. She gave me a map, a guide book, and some phrases in her language, in case I run into her kind of deer," Buck said, pulling the listed items out of his pockets, looking them over carefully.

"This ain't what a bachelor party's 'sposed ta be," Duke said, looking around at the group. "I ain't about ta complain that my dusty dame's got me, but it's 'sposed ta be a buncha single dudes throwin' money at strippers an' getting drunk."

"We'll hook up with my old gaffle partner Finnick. He's single and plans to stay that way. He can do all the drinking and stripper paying for all of us," Nick said with an easy grin. He pulled out his phone and hit one of his contacts. "Finn, you got a date tonight? My in-laws are having a bachelor party and most of these guys are married or close enough. We need a professional drinker and stripper hound." He put his hand over the phone and rose slightly. "Hey, Duke, your powderpuff gave you some bucks, right?"

"Yeah, she didn't wanna put too much on the guys. She didn't think they had too much to spend," Duke said.

"I'd say that's insulting but we really don't," Jake chuckled.

"Lotta mouths to feed and keep employed. We all get something but not a lot. On the plus side we're big wheels. That's a great thing," Kenneth added, the lilac-point, chocolate-faced bunny beaming with his trademark smile.

"Duke's got some scratch he can turn to ones and you can throw at naked ladies. Yes, it's real money. Come on, you know his girl's got the dough to give him. So you free? Vineland. We're just starting out. Little over two and a half hours. Meet us at the southern entrance? Great! See you!" Nick hung up and waggled the phone at the group. "Someone who can have fun on our behalf."

"It's the brother of the gal at Almondine's," Duke said. "He ain't nearly as snappy. Angry, yeah, but he ain't so snappy."

"Hey, be nice. He's an old friend," Nick chided.

"Anybody else hungry? I probably should have eaten before we left. But I wasn't really thinking," Kenneth said, patting his belly softly.

"I had kind of a light meal myself. I forgot how long it took," Nick said with a shrug. "There's a snack car we can buy something packaged from."

"Any fish? I don't mind saying Hayma got me hooked on fish. The Sheriff never lets me hear the end of it..." Buck said with a shake of his head.

"They stock a decent tuna salad kit. You even assemble it yourself so you can leave out the mayo. Unless you're into that kinda thing, I hear country folk like oleo and mayo sandwiches," Nick chuckled.

Before buck could get out an answer Gideon said, "That's a half-truth. Ain't nothing says we gotta like mayo sammiches. Some jes do. Ain't shame in it. I may not think much-a my family but mama at least kept us fed. If we needed ta eat mayo sammiches, we did."

"Okay, okay, just a joke," Nick said, looking out the window. The depot scenery passed slowly, a shuddering announcing the recoupling of the cars, followed by the yank as the powerful locomotive drew the train out of the station. "We'll grab a late lunch after they take our tickets."

After an elderly deer in a sharp uniform passed through to punch the tickets the whole group rose up and made their way through the train to the snack car. They could faintly hear voices on the lower level, where the snack purchasing areas was located.

"Ay, papi... cielo..." A deeply accented, sweet voice was speaking from the lower level. "Es verdad. La cosa lo dicho. ¡Tres veces! Te lo dije. No es una broma..."

"¡Genial!" A deep voice cried in response. "Eso es maravillosa... ven acá, corazón... dulce, dulce cola..."

When the group made it down the stairs the found the llama counter worker out from behind the counter and hugging an extremely well-muscled and rather tall red fox. The llama was wearing the usual crisp pastel blue of a Zootrak employee, a medium-sleeve blouse and a darker blue vest, blue pencil skirt and a blue boat-shaped hat perched between her ears. The fox was in blue jeans, a white undershirt and an open short-sleeve shirt of tropical motifs and bright colors. Several dye-cut marks were poorly hidden with cheap bleach and off-color dye.

Nick raised a brow as he looked on the scene, confused for a short minute before he snapped his fingers. "Oh! Guys, that's Conchita. She was really great while Judy and I were coming up on the train."

"I remember her. She called me 'sir'," Duke said, with a soft smile. "Who's the tough guy? Looks like a Downtown borderer, we see 'em in the Canyonlands edge, they do a lotta the work in there."

"It's her boyfriend, she told me about him when we came up," Nick said.

The two, who had been focused on each other, finally noticed the group, the llama waving enthusiastically to them. "Officer! Don Comadreja!"

Kenneth clicked his tongue softly and whistled. "Well sweet plenty, that's something. Mr. Manchas uses that title when he talks about big, big folks like Big Daddy Dreyson and dad or your uncle. She thinks you're a real big wheel," he said softly to Duke.

"Someone that should get called sir," Duke said with a proud stretch to his full height.

The fox looked at Nick with a slight quirk. "Conchita, quien es esto?"

"Ay, no mames, cielito," Conchita said, waving her hands at the fox. "He is an Officer with the ZPD. Very nice. The comadreja is a very rich mammal, he gave me the big tip that bought our fancy dinner the other day."

The fox took a moment to look at the collection before he rushed over to give Duke a huge, hearty abrazo, practically crushing the willowy weasel with his powerful muscles. "¡Gracias, catrín! You've very generous, Don Comadreja. We need more mammals like you being kind to those like us."

"Heh, I ain't far removed from ya," Duke confessed. "Only reason I ain't got any dye-cuts is I couldn't afford it. But hey, it was just nice." He pulled an arm out and started pointing to folks in the party. "Name's Duke Weaselton, of, ah, Hyenahurst. There's Nick Wilde-Hopps, ZPD. The cookies-and-cream guy there is Jake Hopps, he's marryin' my cousin. Chocolate-face there is his brother Kenny, he's gettin' married too. Heavy guy's Gideon, family friend. And the deputy's Buck Roeberts, also a family friend."

"Good to meet you. You know mi corazón, Conchita. I am Diego Montoya," the fox said, moving back to Conchita's side and placing a hand on her belly. "This is our new little one."

"Hey, congrats, buddy," Nick said, giving a breezy salute. "Like I said back when I was coming up, we reds are really doing well for ourselves."

"What is your wife?" Diego asked.

"Bunny. Their sister," Nick said, casually throwing an arm over Duke's shoulders and pulling him in. "My cousin in a day. Were we interrupting something major?"

"I just found out I'm pregnant! I was so happy I had to bring him out. I didn't want to tell him until we were coming back. It was a wonderful surprise," Conchita said, leaning down to kiss Diego on the head.

"It might be hard on the family. They love Conchita but we aren't married..." Diego said with a slight rub on the back of his head.

"Well that makes no sense," Kenneth said. "Sylvia and I aren't married yet, but the family's just too happy. Hers is too, now..."

"They were the other foxes. You know..." Nick made a card-swiping motion and grinned. "They got better."

"You Peaceground? You're Zootopians, it makes sense," Kenneth said.

"Traditional Selenic," Diego answered. "Conchita is Peaceground."

"That'll do it," Gideon piped up with a sage nod. "The Convocation weren't Traditional, but we had a Traditional Bokor in fer some speechifying. They hammer that enrichin' life stuff, but we gotta work in the Convocation. Marry that partner. Goin' in bounty ain't so respected like they do with Solaterrans and our sect."

"The Houngan is always howling about marriage, marriage, marriage. No wonder so many of the young ones have left. They either don't care or are pregnant," Diego laughed.

"But you came here to eat, yes?" Conchita asked, going back behind the counter. "We're open for business. Would you like a staff discount?"

"Ain't fair to you. Dusty-puff gave me lots of walkin'-around money. I'm kinda likin' givin' tips. Makes me feel like a big mammal," Duke said, walking up to the refrigerated section and looking at the selection. "I gotta ride the train more. Got some good stuff in here."

"They got crawdaddies an' catfish?" Gideon asked, walking up to the refrigerators.

"Better. Lobster and shrimp rolls. They do it up right," Duke said, pulling out a packaged sandwich.

"Wish I had some of Hayma's home cooking. She's got a good touch with fish," Buck said, picking out a simple tuna salad sandwich.

"Excellent, bean burgers. Hope they're a little better than the ones at the Concho," Jake commented, pulling out one for himself and another which he passed to Kenneth.

"Mande? Oh, Conch _ **o**_ ," Conchita laughed. "Where is that, with a name like mine?"

"It's the gas station out by Squirrelburrow, serves most of both, for the border folks," Buck explained coming up to the register to pay for his sandwich and a canned coffee. He finally looked at the name tag on Conchita's vest and made the connection. "Right, nickname. Exactly the same except for the last letter. Good place but they stock most of the usual junk."

"Eat up and eat hearty, fellows. If you plan to drink, pack your belly. We don't need anyone going rogue on us," Nick advised, paying for his own snacks. "Bar food is salty on purpose, they know how to hustle. Eat all the bread you can and try to top off before then."

"You listen to him, he's right on the money," Gideon said, getting himself one of the lobster rolls and meekly standing beside Duke, who just grinned and paid for the pair of sandwiches. "Never drink empty, never drink alone, never drink. I mean, never drink t-too much..."

"Relax. Finnick'll drink for you. He's a professional," Nick said, patting Gideon's back in a firm and friendly fashion. "Judy told me about... you know, things. Hey, I understand. Don't worry about it."

"This isn't one of those dumb movies they marathon over the Vesper/Night divide at the Vogue Bijou. We're not gonna get drugged by strangers, or take some weird plant, or marry a stripper. This is the Vine Country, not Sahara Square," Jake asserted.

"That'll happen anywhere," Nick warned. "You can get drunk and meet weird folks anyplace. So everybody, stay together and we'll be fine."

"Come and join us if you can, folks!" Kenneth said with his usual chipper energy. "We gotta celebrate your new life. It's real excitin'. My Sylvia's having herself a half-fox too. We got bets on what's gonna come from who."

"Most generous of all of you, amigos," Diego said, choosing a packaged cricketloaf sandwich and cheese selection. "But it is most appreciated."

"There was never any harm in being friendly, it helps society out, after all," Kenneth said, putting his burger through the microwave.

"I don't see very many of our kind in these parts. All Solaterrans," Conchita noted, smiling her crooked-toothed smile as Duke stuffed another large tip in her jar.

"We're pretty rare. Enough to have a Peaceground church but not more than one. We have to bring folk into Bunnyburrow. Sylvia has it worse. She goes to a Convocation now and then, has to get a ride out to Predburrow," Kenneth said, sitting down at one of the little attached booths near the cash register.

"My dame's gonna buy us a scooter, like the deputy said. Slap on a sidecar and she can take me to the Convocation chamber. I'll have this anathema off me in no time," Duke said, sitting down beside Jake, after he had sat down with his food.

"An anathema? Oh, a powerful thing. What do you seek to cleanse? If I may ask, these things are personal," Diego said, sitting with Duke and Jake.

"I don't mind. It ain't right ta bottle up stuff. I done a lotta bad stuff. Never too big, never too bad. But I broke my dusty-puff's heart week in an' out, just 'cause I was too thick-headed ta leave a cheap Happytown apartment and be with her. She paid money ta save my worthless hide, good money. And did I move in with her? Nope! Kept makin' love and dodgin' the need ta be by her. I never felt so guilty in all my life. So now I pay my penance. Had the anathema said over me and now I'm payin' it down. Gave myself a long penalty," Duke explained.

"Did you ask for a bokor at your convocation hall?" Diego asked.

"Oh nah... Nah, I ain't that kinda hob. I ain't got nothin' against folks that think about that kinda stuff but... Maman and Baron and all of that ain't somethin' in my life. I got religion, plenty of it. But that's 'cause I'm lucky and I know it. Now I got my Muffin... ain't no excuse fer what I did. Gotta make it right," Duck said with a smile.

"I don't know how I feel about it either. But I have been lucky. You can surely see," Diego said, indicating some of his dye-cuts that looked like they came from lower-end shops or personal making. "I did better things. Now I teach... those like you how to shadow-box and do sit ups."

"Me? What, idiots that don't know nothin'? Ya make money on that?" Duke asked.

"Hyenahurst is a rich place. I can tell you live there with the woman you talked of. Folk there always need more help with things. So many overweight hyena house-husbands and businessmammals. They want the prestige of a tough-tod from down in Barrio Glotón telling them they punch hard or they have good form when they ride a bike." Diego said with a smile. "They pay for our apartment, and my gym. I teach those like us to do something with their lives. Don't throw them away on jail. And don't think you can't live after jail. ¡Fuerte y libre! ¡Nos podemos, junto!"

"He is very generous. Tender Alebrije tells of him at Sanctuary. We were all growing tired of the story about the tree, it was a good change," Conchita said with a laugh, leaning on her hand and watching Diego's muscular back with a smile.

"We reds are going up in the world, and it's a great time to be alive," Nick commented, toasting Diego with a can of Pep. "Good of you to help those guys who can't quick kick the racket. Probably heavier than a few street corner hustles but we all have a past."

"Former members of gangs. Tough muchacos. They do not want help, too proud. But I charge them some tiny thing, some thing we both know is only an act, we make progress. They do good things. All that anger goes into punching bags and padded gloves. They spar big men I hire, tire, and go on to do good things," Diego turned and blew a kiss to Conchita. "Como yo, verdad, cielito?"

"¡Ay, callate, güey!" Conchita cried, sticking her tongue out. "Cabrón..." She blew a kiss back and gave more of her crooked-toothed smile. "Te amo mucho."

"Tengo gran fortuna. Soy un cabrón maravilloso," Diego said with a wide smile.

"Things are... a little different in the city," Buck said, looking sufficiently nonplussed. "More than I thought."

"Yer little doe's got fangs and speaks a language I ain't even heard, an' I'm from the city," Duke noted.

"Hayma's a special lil doe," Buck said, firmly. "It wasn't about the language bit, that's what Mr. Manchas speaks. We got all kinds in The Burrows. Shoot, the Sheriff is always jawing on in Suomi on the phone, probably to her wolf. I meant that thing about reformed criminals getting help at a gym. Then again... never seen a gym-gym. Just the place for sports at school."

"You should come by. Exercise is good for policía. And women love a strong man. My rates are very reasonable, even if you only come very rarely," Diego proudly said.

"A soft hustle is the best kind," Nick said, leaning back and relaxing with his meal.

The train surged on down the tracks, zooming past the rolling hills on its swift road to convey the party to a good time in the waiting city of Zootopia.

 **Author's Notes**

 **Dye-Cut-** Tattooing doesn't exactly work on fur. This is similar but closer to scarification and permanent dying, making sure the fur picks up the pigment forever.

 **Abrazo-** It took most of my life to realize this wasn't a thing in other places. This is what you could call a "bro-hug" with a Spanish accent. It's something common in most Hispanic communities.

 **Catrín-** Anyone who has played Loteria knows this one. It means dandy or fop, though here it's being used with a laughing respect. It's a good thing. And, Duke kind of is all dandy'd out.

 **Diego Montoya-** Don Diego, El Zorro. It was too good to pass up. The last name, Carmelita Montoya Fox and Inigo Montoya. A proud pedigree.

 **Maman and Baron-** Since The Holy Selenic Convocation is a little bit Pentecostal and a little bit Voodoo there are lots of terms that get thrown around to show it. There's a spiritual element not everyone takes strictly seriously. Lots of mystical beings. In particular he's referencing Maman Bidgitte and Baron Samedi.

 **Barrio Glotón-** Barrio Wolverine. Fun fact, for different periods of time members of my family lived in San Diego's Barrio Logan. You can make the connection, I'm sure.


	8. One Night in Tanukitown- Part 2

I do not own Zootopia, that belongs to Disney. This a fan work made solely for the sake of amusement.

 **The Burrows**

 **Chapter Eight: Bachelors- One Night In Tanukitown, Part Two**

 **By: Gabriel LaVedier**

The Zootopian express pulled into Savannah Central Station with a loud hiss and slow chugging. The cars shuddered softly as the train came to a stop and the engine was uncoupled from the passenger cars. _"Offloading passengers. Ten minutes to offload and ten to board. Thank you for choosing ZooTrak for your travel needs. Mind the gap."_

"So you get out of the station and call the first number," Kenneth said, hopping off the train while walking beside Diego. "That's my number. If I don't pick up, the next number is the insurance shop. Mr. Dreyson gets prickly but it's okay. But only during the Matin and Day part of the day. Otherwise use the third number, that's dad's number. If no one's picking up, ask at the station and tell them Kenny sent you. Someone will help you get out to the homestead. They know it. Folk out in Bunnyburrow are nice and friendly."

"Gracias, amigo," Diego said, heartily clapping Kenneth on the back. "We should take Conchita's next day off and travel there. Sounds wonderful."

"When you stay after that, you should stay at Motel Galatea. It's about all we've got in Bunnyburrow, a little off the track, but it's a nice place," Jake added, leaving the train behind the two.

"We'll be you personal Zuber out there," Kenneth cheerfully said. "We need cabs. Until then, you've got friends."

"Glad ta have ya down ta the shop fer some pastries. Got lots fer a fox," Gideon said. "Browsers too. Ah know what mah wife likes, yer lady might like it too."

"This could be a nice thing. You seem like good folks. Nice to have you visiting the Burrows," Buck said, stretching out in the relative openness of the station.

"Finn? We're in town. You out there at the entrance? Good, so we... it's free drinks and strippers. You can take a day off, right? Just turn it off for now, we've got country folks looking for a good time in the city. Yes, without drinking too much. Because I made a promise to the bunny that controls my nookie. Keep laughing; I know. You know what I know. A few weeks in main jail leaves you very dateless. Right, bite my face off. See you soon, lil toot-toot," Nick said, sliding his phone into his pocket. "So we're all set for our stand-in partier. Duke, you got any fancy way to get to where we're going?"

"We ain't got a car. Like ya ever saw a rich mammal drive themselves. She takes Zuber and stuff. Wanna get everybody on the tram? We can take the green line or the blue line from here," Duke said.

"I'd love to try out something like that. Very citified," Kenneth said with a huge smile, after seeing Diego off.

"Works fine for me. They sent a police car for us while we were here. Kinda envied that," Buck said. "Gotta say, Officer Wilde-Hopps, you got some good equipment around here."

"It's not the stuff, it's the ones using it. A hustler can work with anything if they're good enough. It works on both sides of the blue line. You and that sheriff out there caught a pretty big fish, and that's coming from me. Sure made Judy happy to hear you got him," Nick said with a wink and finger-guns toward Buck.

"Whole family's proud of you and the sheriff. Better we took care of that than hid it away," Jake said, patting Buck on the arm.

"Lotta stories there. I'd love to hear those sometime. Police stories from the city. I used to read stuff like that," Buck said.

"Plenty of time for that. But let's get on. Everybody head to the kiosks. Everybody got money for the tram? It's pretty cheap," Nick said, tapping out his information on the brightly-colored terminal. "Hey, which line? Gotta choose."

"It's all going to the same place. They run next to each other," Duke grumbled, tapping in the line data and pushing his bills into the slot. "Everybody pick the Blue Line. We'll be getting off at the Vine Station. You'll hear the information on the tram."

"Whew. Y'all weren't kiddin'. Ain't too much," Gideon mumbled, pulling a few bills from his wallet and feeding them to the machine. "We ain't doin' bad. But we ain't no rich Zootopians. Jes a nice lil couple from the Burrows."

"Awww, don't say that. You know you're a big success. You and the family, we're like this," Kenneth said, crossing his fingers and giving a big smile. "Bunnyburrow wakes up when you do. Pastry from the shop, some coffee from somewhere, the town gets going."

"Some of 'em. Don't matter how many coffees Jenny Thicket pours down Bobby Catmull's throat, he jes gobbles down some sweets an' loafs about," Gideon chuckled.

"Remind me to introduce you to Benji Clawhauser down at the station. He packs down donuts like he needs them to breathe but I've never seen anyone with more energy. He doesn't have to be. He's the chief's brother-in-law. One of those motivated types. Exhausting," Nick laughed.

"I know you didn't grow up on a farm, but Judy told us just how hard you worked back before you met her," Jake said, pulling his ticket from the kiosk.

"Hey, when you're good at it, hard work is effortless. You slide in, put in a day of work and just walk right out, money in the pocket and a smile on your muzzle," Nick said with just a dash of smarm.

"Tram's on schedule, let's get over there," Duke said, motioning over toward the far platform marked with a huge blue wave. "Use the medium car. Ain't much fer you, big buck, but anythin' smaller and we'd all get the squeeze."

"I'll get myself used to it. I hafta bring Hayma around to visit family, and I sure as sunlight wanna sit with her the whole way," Buck commented as he trotted along to the platform.

"Do I sound that nectary when I talk about my dustypuff?" Duke asked, standing at the tram line back in a previous posture, slightly hunched and hands reflexively wringing.

"And worse, moon-blind," Nick sand with a grin. "Carrots isn't exactly making me less of a moon-talker, now I just yip-yip about her."

"This is all natural for me," Kenneth said with a smile. "I always say my Sylvia gives me the honey-glow something fierce."

"Princess isn't in for all that mushy stuff, not in public. We love to rib each other out in public. It's why she calls me cookies-and-cream," Jake said, lightly rubbing the back of his neck. "Maybe... that's mushy now..."

"Did you have a big, fancy bachelor party at a strip joint, Duke," Nick asked, after looking over the group of Bunnyburrowers.

"You kiddin' me? With my dame? No way I was gonna mess that up, I was already doin' my penance," Duke said firmly, his face going nervous and shifty again. "Didn't have no friends anyhow."

"Finnick took me out for a night, but, you know, the badge. I have fluff, no need for anything else," Nick said with a breezy shrug.

They all waited for a short while, but not for a long while. A blue-colored tram clattered up the track, coasting to a final stop with only a slight squeal of the brakes. The various sizes of door opened, the group selecting the one that allowed Deputy Buck to easily enter. He took a seat by one of the windows, glancing out of it.

"Eh, other side, ya get a view of the coastline. It's mostly swamp on the way up but ya prolly ain't got anythin' like it back home," Duke said, motioning to the side of the car he and Nick had chosen, even though the low weasel could barely sit back and also look comfortably out the window.

"We got swamps, the old spread was sorta close, but it weren't even a big swamp," Gideon said, heavily falling down into a seat. "Durn thicket-trash family, nearly wanted ta be swamp foxes."

"We don't talk about the Greys like that, they're just... well, we deal with them like we deal with the Fallows," Buck said, settling carefully into the seat that was just his size.

"Aw, Sharla ain't here. She don't like me callin' the family thicket-trash, but that's what they are," Gideon firmly stated. "Ain't been good since Granny Millie an' Grampy O. Wish we was more like them noodlin' Thickets."

"Noodlin'? What's that about?" Duke asked.

"That's what we call the good kind of country folk, the ones that don't live on the main roads. Lotta them get by with catfish noodling, lotta them in the rivers. You reach into a hole and try to get your hand in it's mouth," Buck explained. "The Thickets are the good kind of hick, you city folk might say. Like your kin there, Weaselton. But the Thickets are even more country. Jenny lives in town now with that layabout Bobby Catmull."

"Hey now, I met those folks. They were nice ta me 'n Muffin," Duke chittered. "Took us out ta _Almondine's_ and Muffin bought the ice cream. They seemed nice enough. She didn't seem like a hick."

"Folks like us from the town proper have our ways to look good," Buck said. "I don't mean a lot of harm. We all get on Bobby. He loves to loaf, and we all know it. I wanted to date Jenny too but nah, Bobby got her. No reason to feel bad. Hayma's the doe for me."

"You'd still date Jenny if she wasn't with Bobby," Jake said with a hearty chuckle.

"Not going to dignify that, you don't know me," Buck snorted.

"I mean if Hayma and Bobby weren't around," Jake countered. "If Princess wasn't around... I dunno... I've been hung up on her since she was little. I'm amazed dad had no idea... caseum... I'm amazed Meister didn't realize..."

"He always wanted to play with Princess," Kenneth casually noted, looking out the window. "He liked when she twisted up around him and pinned him down."

"That's a trick us weasels always fall back on," Duke chuckled. "Muffin can't get enough of me just twisting, twisting all around her. Give 'er enough practice and she'll do it fer a couple-a rotations around ya. Ya got short fur, though... might hurt when she gets handfuls and pawfulls of ya ta crawl around on ya."

"She's bigger than me, she can't do that!" Jake loudly insisted. He contemplated things for a short moment and quietly asked, "Can she?"

"She'll show ya," Duke said with a wink. "Springyspines ain't gotta worry 'bout pullin' nothin' when we're crawlin' around on a mammal."

"Golly... Sylvia can't do that. Hope I can bring the entertainment," Kenneth said, looking mired in thought.

"Kenny, she's pregnant. Really pregnant. And as many jokes as we make, that doesn't happen in one hit, even for bunnies or foxes. You must be doing **something** right," Jake said with a laugh, lightly patting his brother on the back.

"Fluff has a big spiral of pills she has to have refilled a lot faster than I would have thought," Nick said with a chuckle. "It's not a one-shot but close to it."

"Sharla's thinkin' 'bout stoppin' the pills. We got us a good life, space agency's payin' off good, bakery's never been busier. May hafta start hirin' new folks ta keep it goin'," Gideon commented, watching the glittering urban scenery speed past the tram window.

"You should have hired some more assistants a while ago," Buck almost scolded. "You're a Bunnyburrow institution, like Weaselton's place. It's not fun coming by on a shift and finding you're out. The Sheriff gets upset because I'm slacking and I didn't bring her anything. Hire her wolf. The skinny thing somehow manages to make delicious baked goods."

"Her wolf..." Gideon said, contemplating it with an upward glance. "Talked ta the fellow a few times at th' Network. Shy type, but real friendly after he got past that. Talked 'bout his tree brains a lot. Might be good fer somethin' 'r another. I'll think 'bout it."

"More workers, more baked stuff, more delicious food. That'll be the best!" Kenneth cried out.

"More money in the family's pocket. I'm all for that too," Jake said with a soft laugh.

"Gotta share the wealth, ya help make 'nuff of it," Gideon replied.

"I really married a country gentledoe, didn't I?" Nick asked, casually settled in an open and relaxed posture.

"You're still not getting away without doing a hard day's work, _Lunares_ ," Jake grumbled.

"Hey hey, aren't I your _fraternus_ now, frater?" Nick asked with a waggle of his brows and an unctuous smile. "Changed the church, kept the language, taught me just enough to get in trouble."

"That's Judy, always willing to make trouble to make a point," Kenneth chuckled.

"Lotta gals got nerve, an' moon love 'em for it," Duke said with a lingering sigh, checking out the scenery.

The grand buildings of the city flashed past the slightly rocking tram as it rushed along the tracks laid out through the city. The massive structures of stone and glass gave way, after a few stops, to the murky water and lush plant life of the brackish river past the estuary mouth that was The Bayou. They traveled through Haymarket into Vole Gardens, no one bothering to look out onto the inhabited side of the tram. Everyone focused on the winding coastline with the sun glittering off the dark water as the bayou artificially narrowed with the appearance of the interconnected islands that made up the region of Muddy Swamp.

"Can't rightly say why, but I can't get 'nuff of a lazy river goin' by. Don't matter how fast I am 'r ain't going, jes love me the look of a river," Gideon sighed, hands folded on his rotund stomach.

"There's something about the way the sun glitters off it, even when the water's dark. Princess tells me that's why her dad loves being out in his boat, even if he doesn't catch a thing," Jake said with a sigh. "It really is relaxing out there, sun glittering on the surface, breaking up when the wind blows or the plants rustle, or one of those darn fish actually shows up."

"We got a lotta nature here, but we ain't good at spreadin' it out," Duke huffed. "Best Happytown got was dead trees 'n weeds crackin' through the sidewalk. Canyonlands ain't got much in most places, but there it's natural nothing. We're inside anyway. Doin' the usual stuff. The fun stuff."

"You sit in her puff and get swallowed up while she reads and you know it," Nick boldly asserted.

"What? How did ya even know that?" Duke asked, boggling slightly.

"Carrots uses me as a big wall when we're sitting up in bed and she likes to read. Sometimes I hold the book. You'd sink right in and I'll bet you like it," Nick answered.

"Ya bet yer badge I love it, copper. I haven't slept on a mattress in weeks," Duke boasted.

"Sylvia's pretty fluffy, but she's not so big. Gonna love her come wintertime, bet she's all nice and cozy," Kenneth cooed, shivering form his ears down to his wriggling toes.

"Hey yeah, Hayma told me her old home was in a jungle, and she lives in a nice, warm place. Gotta buy her some good winter clothes, see if Peony will let her stay at my place overnight," Buck mused.

"Lotta work when you can bang out a quick couple on a lunch run like Kenny did," Jake laughed.

"Well! Sylvia and I made love in tender moments while I was making her feel better after the fire. And before. And you and Princess were on the clock in a straw mat in the back of a truck at work," Kenneth huffed.

"That was on a break," Jake asserted.

Duke continued to boggle at the badinage between the brothers. "Ya really doin' that much heatin' out in the sticks?"

"City folks..." Buck chuckled deeply. He flicked a look over to Nick and wink. "You know, don't you, city-tod?"

"Found out the night I graduated from the police academy," Nick chuckled. "I temporarily lost the ability to make a vertical leap. Celebration fun is violent."

"Just wait until Cardo Anni. I don't care what religion she is, no one loves summer solstice as much as Judy. If she applies all the excitement she put into the festival games to doing stuff to your body we'll be burying you in the family plot before autumn," Jake said with a smug smile.

"Ey, ey, weasels ain't slouches either. Once she gets a little bump in the noodle she'll use ya up and put yer deflated carcass six down," Duke asserted.

"That's the way to go," Jake sighed. "I had my fun. Straw mat in a truck, out on the leas, shopping for her sandals and helping her try them on..."

"We know, bother, we know. We all know," Kenneth said, patting Jake on the shoulder. "You plan..?"

"I already discussed this with dad! Princess just needs to stop her dose, after the wedding! You all need lives..." Jake humphed.

The rest of the trip went on in relative quiet, passing along beside the glittering surface of the dark water, small wisps of fog swirling around as a barely noticeable haze in parts of the islands visible just off the coast, small specks of mammals busily bustling along the bridges connecting the islands.

They had largely ignored the station calls until they heard, _"Next station, Vine Country. Vine Country, next station Transfer to Green and Orange Line available."_

The tram doors opened with an audible hiss as subtly different pressures normalized, the whole tram suddenly wrapped up in the heat and tremendous humidity of the Rainforest District. The group piled out of the car, the Bunnyburrow crew aside from Gideon reacting with surprise and panting.

"Yup, same as I 'member, it's a sight diff'rent from home, that's fer sure," Gideon said with a nod.

"It's like breathing in a hot river," Kenneth said.

"Summer rain season isn't like this, it's so... wow," Jake said.

"So this is where Hayma lives. Better get used to it," Buck said, slightly loosening his collar. "Summer's hot at home but it's never this muggy, not even near the swamp."

"Breathe it in, boys!" Duke called, leading everyone from the station to the huge torii gate nearby to them, with many animals passing in and out of the wide opening. "Good, clean, wet air! Didn't run many things around here but it's a cheap vacation."

"Okay, keep a lookout for..." Nick started.

"Hey! Hey, you!" A rather large oryx abruptly confronted Nick suddenly. "You Officer Wilde?"

"The one and only. What can I do for you?" Nick said, not missing a stride.

The buck held up a phone and tapped it. "Your buddy said you'd be taking care of this. Hurry up, I've been waiting and with Zuber time is money, and then some."

"I could have called this one for a quick bet," Nick sighed. He had his wallet out and his card swiped through the attached reader in a flash. "Hope you got a tip out of him."

"I got lip and that's it. Tell him to carry cash net time," the big buck huffed, stomping off toward a parking area.

"Cute. Just because I'm too nice to run you in doesn't mean you can keep pulling those," Nick said as he walked up to Finnick, who was smiling and leaning against the right side of the big torii.

"Nothin' to run in, big red. Said you'd pay, it wasn't a lie. You think I got the ready cash to take a Zuber?" Finnick asked with a shrug.

"Trams, trams are cheap. Or your van, it's literally a van," Nick stated firmly.

"Hey, I found a sweet setup, I ain't about to lose that. And I ain't takin' the tram, that's what Zuber's for. It's a few bucks. You got a job. Too big ta take care of your friends? Never knew a few tins were breakin' the bank. Not makin' enough money with the bunny yer bouncin'?" Finnick asked with a laugh.

"Hey now! I know you city folks can be a bit... spicy, but that's our sister," Kenneth said, stepping up slowly.

"Speaking of sisters, this must be the brother Fussi's always talking about," Jake said. "Your sister misses you, but she loves it out in the Burrows."

"Hey! Hey! You... oh, just sayin' nice stuff. Sorry, usually mammals say somethin' 'bout where she's stickin' her rear. She ain't and they know it. Prob'ly why she picked up and left her stake of the souq to cousin Mahmoud. She, uh... she getting' on good without the sun 'n sand? There anythin' to do way out in nowhere?" Finnick asked, with a strong front, his eyes very subtly shifting around.

"She seems happy enough. She's got a job at the ice cream place, one of these day's she's going to take old Almondine's head off, she says she prefers working somewhere cold," Kenneth said, counting off on his fingers.

Finnick let out a deep, hearty laugh. "That's Fussi! Never changes... I should go out and see her. Maybe. It's a long trip. Speaking of that, this is who we got? No wonder you need me to be designated drinker."

"Sir, I don't have a very good impression of you," Buck said, strolling grandly up. "I know you can't be all bad, from what I've seen of that vixen back home and you being friends with Nick but, you just might be speaking a little too much moon there, if you think country folk haven't got a stomach for what you're talking about."

Finnick looked Buck up and down, grinning lopsidedly. "You hittin' on her? Like she would..."

Buck scoffed and waved it off. "Not even. Got my own little doe. Gonna see her family this trip. But I'm a good ol' buck. I'm not too proud to say I can pound the booze back with the best of the buckwild boys."

Finnick sniffed and looked to Nick. "Ringer?"

"He just wanted to come along," Nick said with a grin. "Speaking of, let's get to those relatives. There's some good clubs in there, and the faster we finish that family bit, the better."

"Better..." Gideon mumbled, fidgeting lightly with his attire.

The streets of the large internal 'city' were narrow, pressed tightly by the standards of the wider city. The sidewalks were only slightly raised, while the main road itself was composed of fitted, dark-gray bricks of clay shaped roughly like Is. The sidewalks bustled with rushing crowds of locals as well as the tourists whose looks pegged them as internal or visitors. Many languages called from the many buildings whose designs varied wildly, mostly composed of carved and polished stone, with a few more modern steel and glass ones in the mix The streets themselves were used by mammal-pulled carts, bicycle taxis or very small three-wheeled vehicles.

The small company made their way down the sidewalk, with Buck leading and looking down at a miniature map intended for tourists along with a handwritten note about directions. They wound down one street past a small shrine surrounded by more torii with a rounded, pleasant-looking tanuki woman out front, dressed in long robes with a high, black-lacquered hat. On seeing Finnick her smile fell and she immediately reached out, slapping an o-fuda to his face and waving her gohei in his direction while loudly chanting a ritual formula.

"Friend of yours?" Nick asked with a grin.

"I dated her sister," Finnick answered, pulling off and pocketing the o-fuda. "And not her."

"And I'm guessing it wasn't good for someone?" Nick queried.

"She loved it. A lot. But I don't go with religious women. Too complicated," Finnick said, turning around and blowing a kiss to the tanuki, who responded by chanting louder and swinging her gohei with more vehemence.

"Gosh, never seen anything like that before..." Kenneth said as he walked past, eyes wide.

"It's a whole new world in the city, boys. It's the whole world, distilled down like moonshine into a city," Nick said with an easy laugh.

"Hey, don't make us look bad," Jake demanded, scowling slightly in Kenneth's direction. "We're not clueless hick rubes."

"But... we are. No shame in that. I know where we come from, and it's nice. Sylvia likes it and she's a city vixen," Kenneth said with a smile.

"I been here before. I'm still all turned around by it. I ain't none too fancy an' it don't make no sense ta pretend I ain't," Gideon added. "Don't you be a butter 'n egg buck now ya got Princess in yer life."

"I'm just saying, we could do to look smart and sophisticated. No harm in that. We're a fine family of the Burrows, get mentioned in the same breath as Dreyson and Weaselton. Seedcache now that Peony's running the show. We should at least look like we're not constantly overpowered by the city," Jake argued.

"But I am! And that's fine, it's really amazing!" Kenneth cooed, hopping in a circle as he moved along with the group. "I can't wait to see one of the **big** PUCA sanctuaries. I'll bet it's just plain amazing."

"The one your sister and I go to is pretty nice, and the head Tender is a pretty amazing guy. Don't know if you keep up with the scandal sheets but he stood up to the big boss of Pride Manufacturing and backed him down. His daughter is dating the guy's son, a hyena and a lion. Takes real nerve to keep those kids together," Nick explained.

"Good folks in this city. To be expected," Buck mumbled, turning corners when indicated, looking up occasionally to check the numbers. He halted everyone in front of a building with a large sign covered in strange, curly foreign lettering. Below was the name _Yangon Table_. "Here we go. This is the place. We can pick up a meal and maybe a few drinks. Hayma told me to try the rice wine."

"Hold your antlers, big buck, it's no joke," Finnick said, opening up the doors and strolling in.

The interior was modestly sized but not cramped, the walls largely of slightly off-white plaster trimmed with very darkly stained wood, which was also put up in panel form behind beautiful photographs of exotic cities, presumably from the home nation of the owners. The tables for dining her broad, and low, most of the low furnishings as well as the higher bar stools, were largely composed of rattan. Harp-heavy music accompanied by voices singing in a foreign language wove through the scene.

A rather short muntjac buck, with little antlers poking out behind his head approached the group with an armful of menus and smiled, showing his fangs. "Mingalaba. You are all together?"

"We'll eat at the bar..." Buck said, flipping through the notes he had until he found the right page. "Cezu tin ba deh."

"Oh, you prepared. Wonderful, officer," the buck said with a nod.

"Deputy. But, that's no matter. Is Daw Sanda here tonight?" Buck asked.

The smaller buck nodded and pointed to the bar. Behind it was a mature-looking muntjac doe, her visible fangs and particular pattern marking her as a leaf muntjac. She was dressed in a traditional htamain and blouse combo, the blouse a lovely shade of green and the wrap a brightly-colored floral pattern. She was working the bar beside a much older doe, dressed much the same and doing much the same work. "Daw Sanda is at the bar. Only fast meals there."

"I know... a th-thoke... right, that's it. We don't need much," Buck said, walking to the bar, with the others behind him, plucking menus from the small buck as they passed.

The mature doe acknowledged the arriving group as they all took places at the bar. "Welcome, you just want drinks?"

Buck read over a particular part of his notes over and over, almost looking to burn the paper with his gaze. He dipped his head slowly and said, "Ja nor na meh Buck Roeberts ba."

The doe took a moment to consider the oddly accented words coming from the roebuck but finally realized what she was hearing and pointed him out to the elder doe. "This! Him!"

The old doe turned her eyes on Buck, regarding him carefully. She seemed to have only one fang left, and her eyes were ever so slightly milky with age. "You? You are the one my granddaughter loves?"

Buck nodded again, deeply bowing his head. "Ho de, Sayama Hayma."

The old doe narrowed her eyes and focused hard on Buck before she broke into a bright smile and gently pinched his cheek. "Respectful! She is still very smart. You want food? We will feed your friends for nothing."

"No, no, you need to make money, we'll pay," Buck said with a wide smile.

" _He_ is very smart," Sanda said, softly reaching out to pat Buck on the cheek. "You choose your meals."

"None of this is familiar. Never ate at a place like this. Never had the scratch..." Duke said, looking over the selection listed as being available at the bar.

"It's a lot of salads, but many of them have fish in them," Buck explained. "Need me to order for everyone?"

"Don't bother with that, get us some booze," Finnick insisted. "If we're not at the club, then let's act like it. I know they do rice wine like any other shot so set 'em up, big buck."

"Daw Sanda, rice wine, please, two shots each," Buck said, laying down some money and tapping the bar. "And set everyone up with some food, khauk swe thoke for me and the foxes, gyin thohk for the rabbits."

"But, but uh... I don't... don't drink no more..." Gideon said, looking down at the small glasses of liquid. His tongue very slightly slipped between his lips. His gaze was fixed and his hands trembled at his sides, fingers clenching and unclenching.

"More for me," Finnick said suddenly, swiping the glasses from Gideon and pounding them back with a harsh barking cough and a sucking in of breath. "Yeah! That's the stuff!"

Buck started to bring the glass to his lips, when the elder Hayma gently patted him on the arm. "Slow. Careful."

"Gonna listen to an old doe, big buck?" Finnick taunted.

"You mean listen to my new grammy? I may be a country good ol' buck, but I'm no fool," Buck said, slowly sipping the drink, going wide-eyed and trembling a little bit.

"Ain't like that moonshine you got out there, is it?" Finnick laughingly asked.

"Drank it when I was younger," Buck said with a tight voice and a gasp. "Whew! Good stuff, but take it slow." He toasted the older Hayma and smiled.

"Think we should?" Kenneth asked, sniffing at the top of the glass and recoiling with wide eyes.

"You had some shine with the rest of the generation kits, can't be all that bad," Jake said, tilting his head back and draining the glass. He exploded into hacking and gasping, slapping his hand on the bar and drawing in all eyes to him.

"Keep it steady, brother, slow and steady win this little race. Bunnies know it," Nick casually stated, sipping a little bit, swallowing and waiting a bit before sipping again.

Finnick finished off the drinks and tapped the bar for more, Buck following well behind but also getting another round. Jake, Kenneth and Nick drank primarily in unison, slowly and carefully. Gideon was left there on his own, occasionally accidentally being served a glass that he agonized over, reaching out for one and hesitating, before it was swiped away by Nick who passed it to Jake. Through it all they placidly munched on the provided food, Jake and Kenneth softly talking to each other as they took in the salad of greens with ginger and sesame. The glasses clinked, gasps and coughs rang out, occasionally Sanda or Hayma would say something in Burmese while patting or cheek-pinching a gland-fluttering Buck.

"We should get going soon enough, maybe have a little more food. How was it? Kinda new I know, but that's the fun part of going on," Buck said.

"Nice and spicy. Really buns the old throat nice. Refreshing in some kinda way," Kenneth said.

"I'm always going to be up for shrimp," Nick said, picking a shrimp out of his bowl and devouring it.

"Anyone want anything different? How 'bout you there, Gideon. You've been quiet. Gideon?" Buck asked.

The stool was empty, and one of the bottles of paid-for rice wine was gone.


	9. One Night In Tanukitown, Part 3

I do not own Zootopia, that belongs to Disney. This a fan work made solely for the sake of amusement.

 **The Burrows**

 **Chapter Nine: Bachelors- One Night In Tanukitown, Part Three**

 **By: Gabriel LaVedier**

The disappearance of Gideon was so sudden and surprising that it brought no immediate reaction from anyone. They sat in stunned silence, looking dumbly at the abandoned stool, except for Nick and Finnick, who seemed very cool and collected about the whole matter.

"Well, he's gonna have a good time," Finnick casually said, gulping another hit.

"That's how the city goes sometimes," Nick added, sipping slowly.

"Sweet sunshine! Sharla's gonna kill us all," Buck lamented. He turned to Hayma and Sanda and stammered a moment. "Did you s-see where he went?"

Both does shrugged and shook their heads. "We were serving. He left so quickly..." Sanda said with a sigh.

"What's the big deal? He goes, has himself a big time, stumbles back. It's a party! He's just gonna miss the strippers," Finnick barked.

"Oh you don't get it! I'm the law here, I was supposed to keep this whole thing from going off the rails," Buck lamented. "Gideon was dry! A teetotaler! He went cold after he got picked up for one blighted bender, after a long time of the usual. He was doing everything to keep away..."

"Judy's gonna have our heads," Kenneth wailed, hands on his face, pulling at his lower eyelids. "Sharla's her best friend and we lost her husband with a bottle of booze! Think we can make it far before she gets us?"

"She caught Rob, even if we handed him right to her. She'll just take a little longer to have us stomped into a paste," Jake said with a loud gulp.

"Everyone calm down," Nick said, with an even tone. "No one is getting stomped or anything like that. It's carrots! Judy isn't vio- okay, she's not mindlessly violent. It was just a mistake. It's just a bottle of rice wine and one little night of drinking. These things happen. Remember that movie? _The Zings_? It'll be hilarious."

"This isn't a movie!" Buck bellowed, pounding on the bar. "Gideon Ovine's a good mammal. Even when I was a knothead I plunked my bucks down on the counter for my tarts and pie slices. The church did him good, made him a mammal we all love. We may think his parents are thicket-trash, he does, but he's just as much a part of our Burrow as Stu and Bonnie Hopps, Meister Weaselton and that darn, chittering Dreyson clan."

The two foxes looked between each other, a sour look deeply creased on Finnick's face. "Nick..."

"He's right, it's not a movie, it's a mammal. Another fox even," Nick said, looking down with a sort of guiltless guilt.

"You promised me! You said we'd be spending Duke's money on booze and ladies!" Finnick insisted, his tone loud but his look put-on.

Nick sipped the last of his glass and shuddered. "Booze." He slammed the glass top-down then pointed at the somewhat shocked pair of muntjac does. "Ladies. Now we need to go."

Buck bowed his head to the two and took a quick peek at this notes. "Mihkain, a hpwarr. I'm so sorry..."

Hayma gripped Buck's wrist and gave it a squeeze. "Find your friend. You are a good buck."

"Okay, he's been gone an unknown amount of time, with an unknown purpose," Nick said, closing his eyes and focusing on his officer training. "We can assume he's going to find a place to get drunk and from there... Deputy Roeberts, what did he do during his previous drunken runs?"

"Like his daddy, lot of yelling, punching anything that wasn't a mammal, riding around, knocking down mailboxes and vandalism," Buck said. "He ruined some crops, got himself in real trouble there. Drove around drunk... wrecked that junker the Greys had through some fences. He coulda killed someone. Nearly did as far as I hear, it was before my time as a deputy. Before Sheriff Nikostytär, even. Old Andy, sun warm his place, didn't send him to the clink. He went to the Convocation first, then they sent him to the Church. After that he's been a big mammal. A good mammal."

Nick sighed and pinched the base of his snout. "And he's been off the sauce for years. He's a bottle of good, potent stuff and he's the kind to get loud, angry and hit things, hopefully not mammals. He might go further now."

"Easy, once we hear some tod makin' trouble we'll know where he is. Just need to wait," Finnick said, hopping resolutely off his tool. "There are some naked ladies that can keep us busy while we wait..."

"Not even kind of funny," Nick said, halting Finnick by pinching the tip of his ear. "I'd suggest we split up and ask mammals but not everyone's been around here before. We don't need more folks running loose and lost."

"We're not stupid, we can navigate around!" Jake insisted.

"But we can get turned around. It's a great, big city and we don't have a lotta time put into it," Kenneth said, softly patting his brother's shoulder.

"There's barely enough here for a decent search party, and that's thinking for the Tri-Burrows. More folks to question but lots more space to search, and more ways to get around. He could go anywhere from here," Buck noted.

"No, no... he said he didn't have much money. He couldn't get a cab or a Zuber. He'd have to take the tram lines, it's cheaper. It goes all over the city but only to the stops. That might work for us," Nick said, pulling out his phone and pulling up the contacts.

"Why do you think he's leaving? It is as great a place to drink as any place," Finnick said with a dismissive wave.

"It's a good idea to keep all the options open," Nick said while on the phone. "Benji! It's Nick. I know you like to keep things in order and don't like to bend the... yes, I do need a little help. One of our folks went off with a bottle of booze and he's a former drinker that had a lot issues. If I say it's to find a missing mammal think you can go have a coffee break while I look in at the tram cams? Sure, I can get out there. Thanks Benji, you're the best." He ended the call and nodded to the group. "If we're quick and subtle I can look in on the trams, we just need to get to the station."

"Bet we'll find him on the way," Finnick grumbled. "Yank the bottle away, slap him upside the head and get to the ladies."

"Keep livin' the dream in your head, buddy," Nick said with a roll of his eyes.

o o o

Gideon wasn't sure where he was going. He'd been to the city now and again. Meeting with distributors of certain rare fruit, Judy's wedding, the Network meeting that got them to form their own chapter. He'd been to this place before. Once. Led around by Nick and Judy. All the streets were narrow except for the main thoroughfares, and they all were so confusing.

The signs were in so many languages. He could recognize some of the languages, they were on boxes of fruit, and some of them were even the fruit names. But that didn't help him much.

He didn't want to be there, cramped and crushed by the close buildings, or surrounded by all the folks walking around and talking to each other. All those folk looking at him, some giving him the side-eye. He hugged the bottle of rice wine tighter to his body, hiding it. Shamefully.

He was ashamed of taking it, but he had done it. He should have gone back. Brought back the bottle. Said he was sorry. But all those drinks. He remembered what it was like. It was a time he couldn't help but think of in some sense a warm way. Not having all his senses made a lot of the bad things go away. Getting drunk as his daddy made his daddy go away. Getting drunk made all the pain go away. Being a predator, being a fox specifically, being ignorant. Being thicket-trash. It went away. And it was nice making it go away without trying.

It was work after therapy. It was hard work finding his own value, understanding he was special as a mammal. He still linked himself to Sharla for some of his worth but it was more that it felt nice. Sharla's love was a nice treat. A reward for working hard. He worked hard to make it all go away. But it was still hard work that made good things happen. There was an easier way. But it had to be private.

They hadn't taught him that it was shameful. The volunteer therapist had been calm, patient. Let him get out all his spite and stupidity. Big, bad fox. He was gonna scare that rabbit like always. She never even moved. She sure taught him. Nothing was shameful. He had a sickness. He needed care and a cure. He wasn't a broken mess like he told himself. Just another mammal trying his best and needing a little help. She didn't make him ashamed. Sharla didn't make him ashamed.

He made himself ashamed. All the work he had done, all the time spent recovering meant something. That old time was a time of shame. Scaring prey, being a _tough guy_. Knowing what he really was. Knowing he was thicket-trash. That was real shame. Real pain. Everything from back then was a reminder of his weakness, of his foolishness. He couldn't have witnesses seeing him be weak, couldn't have them know he was a fool. A shameful fool.

Every turn was another street he didn't know. He wasn't even lucky enough to find the bamboo-lined lane with that cafe that Nick and Judy had taken them all to. It was a big mess, until he heard something not familiar in the usual sense. But it matched up with something from the day. It was that foreign language the plump lady had been chanting in Finnick's direction.

Turning out of one of the small alleys found him near to the shrine, with the tanuki chanting over something that he had to assume was an altar. She was sweeping that stick with the papers on it over the thing. He knew how to get to the station from there, his confused fugue having turned him around. He skirted his way along beside the shrine, pulled in even more, feeling almost physically stricken by the chanting tanuki. He wasn't her religion, but the church had saved him from himself. He had respect for all of them, and that pushed the shame even harder.

The path back to the tram station was straightforward, and all he had to do was rather rudely push past all the folks coming through the arch at the front of the location. The station was as bustling as ever, and he had to wait to use one of the kiosks to get himself a ticket. It was all confusing. For all that the lines were laid out in a direct, logical manner they were like colorful ribbons of spaghetti to him. His vision twisted them up as he panicked, trying to think where he could go to escape the eyes of those all around him.

"Hey! Hurry it up! I gotta get to Tundratown!" A big reindeer sneered at Gideon, tapping his trotter on the ground.

"Gimme some time! I ain't from here!" Gideon snapped, shoving his money into the slot and punching one of the options and violently ripping the ticket.

"Well that's obvious, hick," the reindeer snorted, selecting his own route and paying quickly.

"Can't help that, it ain't no deal," Gideon grumbled, looking at the ticket he just got to figure out which tram he was supposed to use. He was already ashamed of himself. He didn't need to be arrested for riding the wrong thing to the wrong place. There weren't many places for a body to be alone on Zootopia, he knew that even being from out in the sticks. He hoped he had heard right and had picked the one place that was so.

o o o

"Once is charming, twice is, _I'm gonna throw you in main jail for a week_ ," Nick grumbled. He and all the rest of the group were in the back of a modestly sized minivan, Buck taking up the most space, squeezed in with Jake and Kenneth in the back. Nick, Finnick and Duke took up slightly less space in the middle. "Vans cost extra."

"Look, you said you needed to get to the station fast, now we've got wheels," Finnick countered. "Make the Duke pay for it if you're so hard up, big red."

"If it'll keep ya quiet I'll even tip," Duke grumbled. "Keep it in yer head my dame ain't here ta keep me from bein' stupid. I'll be stupid all over yer face. Tell him what a springyspine can do, cuz."

"Princess worked over some mouthy tourist once," Jake said. "Went for the face mostly, lotta kicking. You don't have shoes but you'll get the point across."

"Try me, Dook-Dook. I tangled with bigger than you," Finnick huffed.

"That ain't my species and you know it, radar dish! I ain't no polecat, I'm a least weasel and you remember it!" Duke snapped. "It ain't the big guys ya gotta watch, it's the scrappy little survivors! I lived long enough ta get what I don't deserve and I ain't losin' it!"

Finnick grinned wide, and reached across Nick's front with his fist. "Bring it in, woozle. You ain't the same no more and it looks good on you."

Duke rolled his eyes as he bumped with Finnick. "Sure... you're a weird one. But it ain't a thing. Gotta get used ta ya. Gonna be takin' my dame out to ice cream with yer sister there, so that attitude's gonna be familiar."

"Nah, she'll go easy on you. She ain't as much of a snapping fox as me," Finnick chucked.

"No one's like you, that's for sure," Nick mumbled with a roll of his eyes.

The ride out to ZPD precinct one was largely silent after that, with a few soft comments passing between Buck, Jake and Kenneth. When they arrived Duke immediately paid with a credit card and tipped with cash, shooting dirty looks to Finnick. They all went up the steps of the police station, the Bunnyburrow folks looking impressed by the sight.

"Hey Nick! Surprised you're here. What happened?" Clawhauser asked, his usually cheerful chubby face slightly creased in concern. Sitting with him was a gazelle in a dress, occasionally admiring their hooves and sliding a file along the edges to even out some portion when not arranging file folders that were stacked up on the desk.

"One of our crew went rogue on us. I'd be more calm about it but he's a recovered drunk with a bottle of high-test booze and his wife is Judy's best, oldest friend. So if anything happens to him one or both of them will rip us into tiny pieces," Nick explained, nodding to the seated gazelle. "Hey Glam. The Chief just doesn't care anymore, does he?"

"When did he ever care?" The gazelle asked, smiling slightly. "He barely ever cared when I first showed up. Besides, he approved me for low-level filing. He knows how happy I make Benji. And I don't mind coming around on my days off from the club."

"So I really need to have a look at the tram cams, you know, off the record. I figure he's going somewhere to get smashed, and it's kind of urgent," Nick said.

"Oh sure. You still need to use your ID but just list it as an emergency welfare check. Sounds like it anyhow. Gotta have it on the record a little. Sorry. Need me to watch the group?" The plump cheetah asked.

"Please and thanks, big guy. Won't be too long!" Nick called out, jogging into the precinct building and vanishing into an elevator.

Clawhauser broke the silence that fell by offering a big box of donuts to the gathered mammals. "Well, I know two of you. Judy has lots and lots of pictures. She was telling me about you two getting married. How cute! Ooh! Sorry! Sorry, it just comes out."

Kenneth tipped his big felt hat and offered a big smile. "She tells us this and that about you folks, too. I think she was trying to... uh..."

"De-hickify us. You can say it, Kenny, we need it," Jake said, picking out a doughnut that was bigger than his hand. He broke it in half and shared the broken pastry with his brother. "Thanks, Officer Clawhauser. Good to meet you. You too, ma'am."

"They..?" Glamzelle started to ask.

"Took a bit to get the little details but we respect the difference in the look, ma'am," Kenneth said with a bright smile. "I didn't know you kept it on when you weren't performing. Judy forgot that part."

"She usually sees me when Benji picks me up from the club or I dress up for dates, and she must figure the rest of the time I'm out of it. I am, but I had a rehearsal today and decided to just leave it. It doesn't affect anything."

Buck tilted his head as he looked at Glamzelle, regarding the gazelle for a long moment. "You... you fellas are gonna need to bring me up to speed on this one..."

Glamzelle chuckled softly and twirled a lock of hair around a hoof digit. "I've met a lot of tourists that need the story. You know what a drag show is?"

"I... heard about that, seen it in movies and... ohh..." Realization crossed Buck's face and he looked Glamzelle over again. "Never... never seen that before. Just a country buck, you know? So... m-ma'am?"

"Drag on, Glamzelle. Drag off, Stott Thompson. Both ways, Benji's boyfriend. He likes to say it, I like the sound of it. Girlfriend when he's feeling funny, but that's for family," Glamzelle replied, kissing Clawhauser on a chubby cheek. "It takes some time for everyone to get it."

"I try to get it quick. I'm not a smart buck but I can learn. I like what I get outta being a fast learner," Buck said with a chuckle. "Got a great doe, a new diet and happy times."

"I seen his gal. Little thing with a pair of fangs. We met her ma while we were..." Duke tailed off and twitched his whiskers. "This ain't the kinda night I figgered on. I thought I'd be payin' this guy ta throw ones at strippers fer all of us." He pointed to Finnick, who winked over at Duke.

"This party sure went south fast..." Kenneth sighed, sullenly munching on his giant doughnut. "Nothing against the good folk of the city, but I like how Gideon makes 'em."

"That's what I hear. I hope Nick finds him. I love talking to a good baker about their technique," Clawhauser sighed.

"He's not super good at it but he really tries and I love tasting the results," Glamzelle said, hugging against Benji's side.

A short time later Nick came back into the front room, holding a department issue notepad in his hands. "It's easy to track a tod like him. Hefty fellows show up good on the cams. He took the line around up, heading for our favorite front lawn."

"Vesperland? Bad juju out that way. You sure? I ain't goin' to the big back yard without a reason," Finnick said with a moue of distaste.

"It's not much to us but Gideon's a grazer down to the core now. Sheep wife, soft work, town loves him, Solaterran. If he wasn't in the sticks he'd have a picket fence and a dozen bleating kits already," Nick said with a soft chuckle. "We know it's been bad but Gideon has no idea. He knows it's full of sheep like his wife and churches like he prays in every week. And he knows it's empty enough to get good and drunk in."

"I'll get a ride from someone who knows-" Finnick's comment was halted by Nick taking his smartphone from him, a slight smile on his features.

"Benji, can you check out a Raksha for me? This is still... police adjacent business, and the chief never tells his favorite little brother 'no,'" Nick said.

"I'm going to be his favorite little brother if I keep working on my Gazelle work," Glam giggled, watching as Benji typed out the requisition forms.

"Not until the Tender puts the seal on the papers," Benji chirped happily, printing something out and pushing it at Nick. "Just sign the bottom. I'll file it away. The garage folks should be ready for you."

"Meet me around front, guys. Let's knock this one out quick and salvage a little of this," Nick said, going back into the station to hit the garage.

o o o

The Meadowlands station was a modest affair, reminding Gideon very much of Bunnyburrow. It had most of the things made out of wood, painted in bright pastel colors. The streetlights were polished metal with decorative forms, illuminating the quaint murals of happy sheep all over the station buildings. All colors of sheep. Even a black ewe whose smiling eyes made him turn his eyes away in deep shame. She was at home, thinking everything was well. And he had run off to get drunk.

Disgusting.

The station was located at the edge of the vast expanse of grass that constituted the whole of Meadowlands. Paved, straight roads laid out in orderly grids were deeper in, he had heard. It was an amazing thing to think. He was used to the dirt roads of home, the wide spaces between the clusters of civilization like the main Burrow towns, ample trees and wild places. There was a lot of greenery, so many plants but they were all trimmed and planned. Hedges, manicured lawns, tagged trees with cages around the bases. Neighborhoods packed in long rows with the occasional circle, long stretches of stores and restaurants, long parks. They liked their long things.

Three roads split off from the parking lot at the station. Going off to his left and right were roads that encircled the district and the wide one lead off to split off into other roads. Beside all of them were paved, perfect sidewalks. There were still folks there. Even the most sparse District had mammals looking at him askance. Sheep, goats, horses, a few llamas and pigs. They looked at him suspiciously. Like they knew. Like they already had an inkling he was there to get drunk.

He lost himself again. He made his way down one of the sidewalks, seeking shelter from the eyes, distance from all those faces. Not enough bunnies to feel like home, but enough sheep to make him think he was on the Ovine homestead. Their eyes bored through him, dug into his back as he fled them. His paws pounded the pavement, rushing away from the station, following the straight and orderly ribbon of concrete.

A building loomed to the side, alien yet familiar. Square, large, wood and plaster with soft pastel colors. The large, high spire topped with a golden-colored sun sitting on a root-bearing ground stood out even from the other side of the large parking lot. That was the key. It was more than a large antechamber leading to the cathedral proper. A large sign by entrance to the lot said, _Sunrise Glory Solaterran Church_ and below that the marquee read, _A new day, every day. The Vesper is done, we have the light._

Gideon crossed the parking lot slowly. He was drawn to the darkened church like a juicy beetle to moist earth. He knew very well the church was always going to be open. Even darkened. Darkness. Not the Holy Dark like in the Selenic Convocation. No silver glow and no sweet peace of the night. Just a sheltering darkness to drink himself stupid. To be weak. To be lazy. To stop working hard and just let it all go away.

Opening the door revealed a very strange new world. It wasn't the warm and cozy stone pews and carved caverns lit by the high electric chandeliers with frescoes and murals on the wall. The whole thing was squared off. He was in the receiving area, leading in the center to the amber-colored carpet up to the raised dais for the altar. It moved between two rows of polished wooden pews, more of those to the left and right of the dais. It was at least a familiar setup. The spaces beside the pews were the familiar walkways, but instead of the familiar paintings there were stained glass windows, like they had at the attached community center back home. In the dark they didn't look like much but he knew how beautiful they could be.

He padded reverently down the central aisle, making the sign of the sun on his forehead and the sign of roots on his belly. That was reflex as well as real reverence. He knew awe of the church was right. But he was there for blasphemy. He was there to give up trying hard. He was going to defile the church with his weakness and backslide. Not that anyone would call it that. That nice doe wouldn't. His friends wouldn't. Bunnyburrow wouldn't. Sharla wouldn't. They'd all forgive him. But he wouldn't.

He made it all the way to the front pews, genuflecting before sitting down and looking at the bottle in the dim, ambient light that bled in from outside. For all he was like prey back home, he was still a fox, and his night vision was still just as good as ever. He couldn't read the bottle label, but it looked like the letters on the bar they had been at, something Buck's little doe spoke, that her family spoke. At least it was legal and paid for. He wasn't a thief. He was a worthless drunk. Just like daddy.

The bottle had a simple screw-top, and he winced as the first few cracks of the metal rang surprisingly loud in the chamber. They were made for that. Had to get the Fif's voice to all the corners. Another crack of metal and he halted. The noise fairly rang in his ears. He was really doing it. He'd been dry as that place the ice cream vixen came from. He'd become a pillar of the community, running in big company, the sort of fellow Mr. Manchas called Don, the kind that got hat-tips and nods, got good seating in church, was asked to be part of the choir. But it was so much work. He had been good. Until he saw them all having fun. So easily.

"We're always open, but we usually want someone to worship," a voice said, softly, from nearby. From out of the right pew area emerged a goat, a short type, his honey coat thick but turned from shaggy to straight and flowing. His horns curved up grandly. He was dressed in the flowing earth-toned robes of a Fif, but without the golden-colored mask worn for worship services. "We accept all here. Oh... but you know that. I shouldn't be surprised. More than others, I have always believed the church is for every mammal, no matter what."

Gideon had given himself away on seeing the robes. He made the signs of the sun and roots again, and bowed his head while flattening his ears in a proper sign of contrition. "Clemens Sol Invictus et Sancta Terra, ex toto corde paenitet me omnium..."

"Oh! Oh my... Lepus Rite... you're not from the city," the goat said with a soft chuckle. "That's from way out there. I kept up with it. I kind of like how it sounds too. You know what you're saying, child?"

Gideon nodded slowly. "I do, Fifrah. Clement Sol Invictus and Sancta Terra, with the whole of my heart I am truly sorry fer all my transgressions against my fellow mammals and the shame I bring on my community and myself. I seek to be cleansed by the warm rays of mercy and the tender touch of the cradling ground. If I confess I wish to know how I may be healed of this wrong and be again a good mammal to my home."

The goat nodded slowly, making the sweeping motion of earth and sun. "Tell me, child of earth and sun, what trespass have you committed against your neighbor, land and self?"

Gideon was silent for a long while. Head bowed, ears back, tail tucked between his legs. He trembled a little, clutching the bottle to his body. "Weakness."

"Weakness?" The billy asked.

Gideon slowly held out the bottle, offering it to the Fif, who took it gingerly. "I was on the path to be my daddy. Couldda done it. I was a worthless bully, drunk, stupid. The Convocation did their best. Houngan Luparov sent me off to a lay doe at the church. I threw my hate in her face, she gave me back tender kindness. I opened up to the warm light of the sun, the sweet cradling of the earth. But I had ta give up the booze. I did. Threw it out. Turned around. The church was there fer me. I worked hard. Became a big mammal. The Burrow wakes up ta my pastries. Married my kithood sweetheart, a sweet ewe, best ewe ever was. She loves me, she keeps my head on right. I work hard on my business, work hard keepin' the smile on Sharla's face, work hard bein' the big mammal the Burrow sees. I came out here fer a bachelor party with some family friends. They was drinkin'. Drinkin' good. Easy. It was so easy. They could have 'em. They didn't need ta worry they might turn inta their drunk daddy, worry they'd lose anythin'. It's hard work bein' a good mammal. Predator that gets respect. Booze made it easy ta forget everything, made it all go away. It's always work without it. Other folk can get away with it. I can't."

The Fif slowly stroked his beard, looking at the foreign lettering on the bottle while slowly nodding. "This is from a ways off. You... came here to drink, did you? Did you steal it?"

"Weren't rightly stealin'. They paid fer the thing, it was fer us all, I guess ya could say. But that's no excuse. Guess it was stealin' too. Took some booze, ran off ta somewhere far, ta be alone. Didn't want nobody seein' me drinkin'. Bein' weak, failin'. Bringin' shame on myself," Gideon sighed.

"Your reputation means a lot to you, doesn't it, child?" The Fif gently asked.

"'S'all I got to my name, all that really matters ta me. I was a mess back when. Son-a thicket-trash, sired from a drunk, bully, bigot, stupid... a drunk like him. Took Sheriff Andy takin' pity on my stupid self ta make a mammal outta me. Took the church, took hard work. Hard work. I could feel good about myself. I could be a success. It all works. I'm happy. But used ta be, I had an easy out. I was shameful, but I never knew 'til I sobered up. Tried ta avoid that much as possible..."

"I won't tell you that you're right," the goat said with a slow shake of his head. "This world will seldom cater to our ego and our selfishness. We are not characters penned by some tyrant using us for amusement. We are not the type to survive our foolishness easily and painlessly. All life has consequences. We plant the seed in the glaring light of summer in poor soil, we should understand the outcome is not the fault of the sun or earth. We should have understood, especially as we grow more wise. When a sick mammal sees a doctor they are not advised to embrace their illness, they are treated. But some things are not cured, they are managed. But you know this, don't you?"

Gideon nodded, tears at the corners of his eyes. "Mary Coney went over it once I stopped bein' a knothead. When I started listenin' that was what she told me. I ain't no broken, evil thing. I'm a child of this earth and I got a sickness in me, somethin' like a club-paw 'r a twisty spine. Ain't no magic cure, ain't no fix gonna make me like other mammals. But ain't no reason I gotta lose everythin' to it. Keep my head on straight. Do the hard work. Stay a good mammal. But..."

"It's not easy, yes. Thus the hard part of hard work," the Fif said, with a comforting pat of Gideon's shoulder, which he accepted with a natural ease. "You must seek penance a great deal. But that's not what it's for. Absolution is for true failings. You're just a mammal working your way through life. This Mary Coney, is she still at your church?"

"Yessir, she is. Got a private practice but it ain't worth much there. She'd have a pile of bucks here in the city. Folk give her rent and such for all the good she does comin' back ta the Burrow. Like my buddy Travis; couldda been a big shot out here. His business partner Jaguar. Like them She's there. Says sometimes she thinks she should see me now and again."

"Do it. I know enough to know the life of a baker is one of hard work with few days of rest. Those must be precious. But your life is precious. Life must be prioritized. You need to keep talking about it if you feel this pressure. You seem to have a life you love, but you have that sickness. Sometimes you need a way to talk about these things."

Gideon dropped his head and lifted his hands above his head in supplication. "In nom... uh, in the name of Sol Invictus and Sancta Terra, I will listen to your words and do what I may to heal the wounds my wickedness has caused in my community. Is that your word and will I be forgiven?"

The goat gently touched Gideon on the back of the head. "Deinde, ego te absolvo a peccatis tuis in nomine Sol Invictus et Sancta Terra. You hurt yourself and must heal yourself to heal the harm you have done. See this Mary Coney. Have regular therapy when life feels too hard. You must live life and be happy in it. Do this, and the earth will comfort you and the sun shine gently upon your face."

Gideon lifted his head and finally cracked a smile. "My friends... prolly scared 'em, got 'em all lookin' around. I gotta tell 'em where I am. Didn't bring th' phone Sharla bought fer me. Can't even rightly remember any numbers."

"I have a phone with me. Always keep one around when I'm tending to the church. Do you know any way to contact someone?" The billy asked, pulling a phone from inside his robe.

"Well, 'sa long shot, but call the ZPD, ask 'em if ya can get in touch with the first precinct. Tell 'em ya wanna get a hold of Officer Nick Wilde-Hopps. You can jes give 'em the location and he'll find us. They'll call him."

The goat looked thoughtful, a small smile on his face. "You really are a success. You move in important circles, child..." A moment later he said, "Yes, this is Fifrah Antlersby of Sunrise Glory in Meadowlands. I need to reach Officer Nick Wilde-Hopps of Precinct One..."

o o o

"I messed up, didn't I?" Gideon asked, looking down at his paws, standing beside Nick in front of the church.

"You're not the first mammal and won't be the last," Nick said, giving Gideon's shoulder a comforting pat. "You know what I did. Duke over there messed up all his life, but look how he ended up. And hey, remember the start of Try Everything. Messing up is how you get better."

"Nope, gotta get help if ya wanna get better," Gideon said. "Gotta go home, tell Sharla, make an appointment with Mary Coney. Gotta talk out my problems."

"You tellin' your lady about this? You crazy or somethin', tod?" Finnick quickly asked, giving Gideon a strange look.

"You kiddin', radar dish? 'Course ya tell her! Ya tell her everything ya gotta tell, cry a little an' ya get ta sleep on the fluff, an' keep the good stuff flowing. Bet wool feels just as good," Duke huffed, lightly flicking one of Finnick's eartips and getting a snap for his troubles. "And it ain't no line. Ya keep yer snout clean, ya keep on tellin' and there ain't nothing that can break that apart. Learned it, live it, an' lookit me now."

"I'm not in the habit of saying this but listen to Duke. I come clean with Carrots, she comes clean with me. A good talk fixes a lot," Nick said with another pat of Gideon's shoulder.

"They do things different out in the big city alright," Kenneth said, looking up at the church exterior. "Sure does look nice, but not so nice as the one back home."

"Well, nice as it is it's not as warm and welcoming as the church back home. It needs to be underground," Jake noted. "It loses something without stone pews and frescoes."

"We gotta get back home? Sorry about this all..." Gideon sighed.

"Are you kidding? I booked us a hotel. We're having some fun tonight, if only so Finnick will occasionally let me sleep," Nick said with a grin. "Break into the apartment and I'll accidentally taser you more times than necessary."

"Not gonna, big red. Your lady ain't gonna stop with taserin'," Finnick chuckled.

"You can forget about me," Buck said. "I called up Hayma's family and they practically forced me to stay with them, they said they had room. I think they want to give me a look, see how I am."

"Fast track for marriage. You ready for that?" Nick asked.

"Been ready for a while. Glad they wanna get to know me," Buck said with a smile.

"Nobody wants to be single these days. More for me!" Finnick cried with a concluding, deep laugh.

"I'd laugh but he makes most of his money off of single ladies. He's like the knockoff version of you," Nick chuckled, nudging Duke and popping his brows.

"Did it once 'r twice. I weren't no Romeo. Ain't got the touch. Muffin just loves me fer bein' a screw-up that don't keep on bein' an idiot," Duke said.

"Takes skills, noodle. Born with some, worked the rest. It ain't your scam, now you out of the game. Ain't many left," Finnick said, his tone getting slow near the end.

"None of the jobs we all did exactly have a long shelf life," Nick softly said, patting his friend on the shoulder. "Judy got me to understand, sometimes you know when to let it go."

"It ain't my time yet!" Finnick shouted, shrugging off the pat. He brushed off his shirt and looked down. "But I'll know when it is. And I ain't stayin' past it. Not gonna go out like those old fools that don't know when ta pack it in."

"He's gonna live on my couch for the rest of my life," Nick said with a smile.

"I'm gonna take your building's parking space, you owe me that much," Finnick asserted.

"I do owe you that, yes. And some naked ladies. They have clubs here, too," Nick noted.

"I ain't watchin' no sheep get shaved, only one fox here would like that and I know he ain't gonna look," Finnick huffed. "Don't mind prey, got plenty of love for all the ladies. But I wanna go to one-a the old places. You may be married but ya still remember."

"That I do. We gotta get the Big Mama back to the station. Gid, you wanna get to talking to Benji Clawhauser? He's been eager to talk to you," Nick said with a wide smile.

"I know it would be better ta face the booze an' naked ladies, get stronger, but I ain't ready yet. Be glad ta have a jaw with yer friend," Gideon said.

"We'll pick you up later, or maybe they can take you to the hotel. I'll give the information. You can swap some recipes with Benji and Glam. Should be fun," Nick said, motioning everyone toward the huge SUV.

"Go with the blessing of sun and earth, children," Fifrah Antlersby said, making the sign of sun and soil. "And thank you for the bottle. It should warm up the other Fifs quite nicely."

Gideon, Buck, Jake and Kenneth bowed their heads and responded with the small motion of sun and roots. "Thank ya fer it all, Fifrah," Gideon said.

"That was our..." Finnick started before Nick cut him off.

"Just let it go. It was paid for, it's a nice gift for the fellow, looks like he was helpful, and it's a Fif. You wanna take something back from him?"

Finnick scrunched up his features and just turned back toward the car. "I don't deal with religious folk. Too complicated."

Nick whistled and motioned to everyone. "Alright, hop into the car. Gotta salvage the night. Let's ride!"


	10. One Night In The Burrows- Part 1

I do not own Zootopia, that belongs to Disney. This a fan work made solely for the sake of amusement.

 **The Burrows**

 **Chapter Ten: Bachelorettes- One Night In The Burrows, part one**

 **By: Gabriel LaVedier**

The ladies who had seen the guys off on the train watched the car being led off to be attached to the express, waving to the retreating segment. Sylvia was the first one to check the sky. The arctic vixen was in her usual working clothes, a white maternity blouse and gray skirt, her gray vest open to give her some comfort. "Alright, they're off. I can't drink because this little kit is gonna get every chance it can have but let's get you ladies all liquored up while they get to look at naked ladies."

"Gideon won't," Sharla said, kitted out in her usual comfort clothes of blue jeans and a National Space Exploration Agency tee shirt. "I mean, he will, but he won't look the same way. He'll see them, say nice things and drink some sweet tea."

"I... you seem so earnest. Is that so?" Muffin asked, clad in a tasteful light peach dress that fitted her loosely, allowing her puff to be prominent.

"Oh her hubby is a legend for being the poster-tod for the kindly country mammal, and once upon a time the exact opposite," Princess said, still in her _Weaselton's Wares_ uniform. "You take the first half as a warning and the part after as a model."

Muffin chittered happily and gave Sharla a side-hug. "You and I have much in common I see. We must have conversation about this sometime."

"Th-that might be nice. I've heard stories too. You have to tell me which ones are true," Sharla said with a soft laugh.

"I swear, I arrested him all those times. And now he's almost my cousin..." Judy said, lightly rubbing the back of her head. She had on her trademark Bunnyburrow outfit, tight jeans and a pink gingham shirt. "But, don't worry. He's completely flipped around. Exactly like Gideon."

"Weaselton genes don't go down without a fight. Took a while but he got around to it," Princess chuckled, throwing an arm around Judy's shoulders. "Still remember your bunny places to go drinking, cousin?"

"I wasn't part of that. I was boring and focused on being a police officer. That was my rebellion," Judy proudly asserted, polishing her claws on her chest.

"You will all have to tell me where things are here," Hayma softly said, still wearing her plain black and white maid outfit. "I know places in Squirrelburrow, locations Daw Peony has shown me but I have no other experience."

"We know that's gotta be a lie. Buck's a good ol' Burrower, and he just adores you. You must know all the good spots for necking and more," Princess said with a pop of her brows.

"How am _**I**_ the one that's pregnant when you're... that?" Sylvia asked.

"Because I take my pill on time and also occasionally stop enjoying the Hopps hospitality. I heard about the Sheriff and Deputy Buck finding you and Kenny having an extra go on the clock," Princess smugly said.

"Proud of it. My Kenny thinks the moon shines out of my fur and he's always ready to take that happy honey glow and give me everything he has," Sylvia countered.

"Jake's just as eager, I just wanted to wait until after the engagement. I'm off the pill and we'll hit that window as soon as possible," Princess asserted.

"I-I have been shown some places, but Buck has been very polite, I only know the town," Hayma softly said, looking somewhat embarrassed by the talk, her facial glands slightly opened, occasionally fluttering and flushing.

Muffin came up to stand beside Hayma, lightly patting her shoulder. "Leaving... sisterly banter aside, to spare the sensibilities of those not accustomed to such, where shall we engage in this little fete?"

" **Not** the homestead," Princess insisted. "Not while _your_ parents are there," she added, looking hard at Sylvia.

"Ha-ha! Joke's on you! They're your parents now too!" Sylvia said, booping Princess on the nose.

"They're not my parents, they're my in-laws!" Princess shot back, halting and thinking about it, tapping her digits as she considered something. "Wait, my husband, his brother, his wife, her parents... technically in-laws," she sniffed. "Technically."

"Much like _by default_ , _technically_ is a serviceable way to win. Score one for the vulpines. I thought you weasels were sharper than that," Sylvia said with a proud puff of her tail.

"Oh sweet cheese and crackers, don't say that around Nick, this would never end," Judy said, softly rubbing her head.

"You'd find my Dukey too cunning for you, I can assure you. He'd run rings around your efforts at craft," Muffin strongly asserted, looking extremely proud and assured.

"And cuz with the assist, nice!" Princess laughed, hugging Muffin from the side and really squeezing into the soft fluff. "Now I see my he's always pushed in there. It's like a feather bed with body heat."

"He does rather enjoy his time luxuriating in indolence," Muffin admitted. "He says that sleeping on me makes him feel like the king of the world. It's the small pleasures that seem to make him so happy."

"Now that's sweet. I'd say he sounds like Kenny but he's as abrasive as that ice cream vixen," Sylvia said.

"All a front. He will mellow with time, like a fine wine. For others. He has always been so tender with me," Muffin sighed.

"I know that there are bars," Hayma softly said. "Buck took the time to warn me against them. Too many rough customers, he said. I would need to fight them, and I would probably win," she added, smiling wide to really show off her fangs. "He says such sweetness."

"Yeah, when he tried he could shovel the sweetness high and deep, at least now he's using his powers for good," Princess said, lightly nudging Judy.

"I don't speak ill of mammals, but... I knew the Deputy could be that way. Nice to know things change," Judy chuckled. "No bars, there's nothing like I've gotten used to in the city. This place could use a cafe proper, not just the restaurants like Attie and Martin's or The Grease Trap or... the Concho..." She, Princess and Sharla shivered, leaving the others to wonder.

"It's... fine..." Sharla said, diplomatically. "I'm a bit spoiled, having Gideon's food all the time."

"Don't try mopping that slop. They're passable," Princess said. "You choke it down because you're hungry. They have normal snacks in the place but they insist on trying to have service. It's all packaged cooked stuff they're not good at making."

"I cook much better than that. Daw Peony and Buck tell me how much they love my food. We should come back to the manor. I could cook for us all," Hayma said with a bright smile.

"I'm not calling anyone huge, my new sister-in-law, but the Seedcache manor isn't built for anyone much bigger than you," Princess said.

"You'll get yours once he pulls his eyes off you paws. Everyone knows what's going on, I'm the only one who's going to say it," Sylvia taunted.

"We don't say it because nobody cares," Sharla said with surprising bluntness. "As gossip goes it's pretty boring. You'd get more traction out of talking about how often Dr. Arctos and Mr. Manchas are injured and how many bandages they have on, and we know it's because they're two giants with knives permanently attached to them who are violently in love and show it."

"Yeah, Sylvia... you usually seem more on top of things. I thought you would have figured out everyone is bored by that," Judy softly said, patting Sylvia on the shoulder. "You're from the city. I'm from here. This is hardly something to notice. I thought city folks needed... more interesting things for gossip."

"She's being defensive," Princess asserted. "They're brothers from the same generation. I'll bet they're more alike than they let on. He must be super low key."

Sylvia pouted, arms crossed over her chest. "Mmph... he says they're soft and squishy from the padded fur and insulating puff and the pads are like little beans. Never mind. Where are we getting our action on? I haven't seen one, but you hiding a strip club for ladies around here? I love Kenny but I'm allowed to look at guys if I don't touch."

"Well, living in the city I know that some of the farmers around here might be appreciated on a stage or on a calendar of hunks, like the Striper Squad. But no one would pay to see it on stage around here," Judy said, a blush creeping over hear ears and her nose twitching lightly.

"So are we going to grab some brews and scoot out to some copse or hill?" Princess asked. "We've got a ton of time but why delay? If we're not gonna be in the city we need to make our own entertainment."

"There's a lot of them out there for us. But you know there's nothing to see during the day. We need the starry sky," Judy sighed, looking up to the clear blue sky. "We could have some entertainment if there were a few more clouds."

"We could have some entertainment if they had some pouch-dancers and some booze. Or something that tastes like booze," Sylvia huffed.

"Now you're entirely sure you want her in the family?" Princess asked. "It's already a little questionable with... I mean, he's a nice guy but Nick's no Gideon."

"Nick is a perfectly good tod. True, he's been involved in... things, but that's no matter. Sylvia is a wonderful vixen. Besides, she's pregnant. She's carrying a Hopps kit, or two. She's in this family, no matter who says what," Judy said, tapping Sylvia on the nose. "That includes you. I caught my brother, I can catch you if need be."

"You had notice," Sylvia sniffed, her tail bristling and swishing slightly. "But I'm not running. Not because you're a big deal or it's a good spread. I just love Kenny. He's all smiles and rainbows and honey syrup and it's a lot. And I love it."

Sharla smiled, and gently patted Sylvia on the arm. "That's exactly how I feel about Gideon. He turned his life all around, so much that... he can be a bit much. But I know what he's doing it for. He's just so hard on himself..."

Sylvia chuckled, patting Sharla back. "Kenny holds himself to a pretty high standard as a father. He's already hopping up every time he thinks I'm about to give birth."

"You milk that too much, he's up and running the second you yap," Princess said with a firm tone. She followed it with a laugh and a click of her tongue. "Jake's faster. He'll pamper me way more than Kenny pampers you."

"No way. Kenny's all goo-goo over me and he can't do enough to help me. It's always, _gee willickers Sylvia, lemme get you another pillow_ , or _lemme feed you a few more blueberries, gotta get them fruits and veggies in there for the lil one_ ," Sylvia said, doing an impression of Kenneth.

Princess blew out a haughty puff and snapped her fingers. "Ha! Pop-Pop is gonna make him take extra good care of me. There's a lot riding on the marriage, and Jake knows it."

"No fair using other relatives!" Sylvia snapped.

"So how long do we let them fight?" Sharla quietly asked, huddled up by Judy with Muffin and Hayma.

"It's family stuff," Judy casually said. "We learn pretty quick how it works. You get a squabble, they peter out and then we all get along together."

"Is this how it is in a family? Goodness..." Hayma whispered. "I missed many things having only myself."

"I have siblings. We were icy to one another, but no less cutting," Muffin noted. "Now they enjoy making snide remarks about my husband. Very well. I know James' little gold-digger of a wife is cheating on him. I'm saving my glee for when he finally finds out."

"No love lost there... I... I can understand on some level," Judy said. "Just focus on being the good child. They'll probably suffer the most then."

"It's true what they say, living well is the best revenge. I will live happily with my husband, and bring a good aura to the family," Muffin said with a bright smile.

"I'll do my best to leave his more... interesting past in the past," Judy said, lightly rubbing the back of her head. "I'm sure your family found out something. But he's just a small fry, nothing too bad."

"Thank you, Officer Wilde-Hopps. The family is difficult enough without even more confounding factors," Muffin said with a sheepish look.

"And that was a lie!" Princess asserted. She and Sylvia had continued to argue while the others conversed. "I'm as wiggly and agile as any other weasel and I **could** have done it but Jake and I just went to the Vogue Bijou to watch _Floatzen_ so I could tease him about having the hots for those otter hussies. I kept my paws in the sandals and on the floor."

"Fine, it was a lie," Sylvia said, grinning aside at Princess. "I tried it. I almost pulled my thigh and Kenny just told me it was sweet but he wanted to watch the movie."

Princess smiled and suddenly gave Sylvia a big hug. "That's how you know you're family."

"Never thought I'd have a sibling, especially not a country one," Sylvia said with a laugh.

"And that's how family works," Judy said with a grin. "If you're a real Hopps, it comes out like that."

"I do so like this family," Muffin said, happily puffing up her fur.

"Okay, so it's too early to do anything for real," Princess said, arm hanging down on the other side of Sylvia's neck as the two approached the rest of the ladies. "Let's pre-game this a little with something unhealthy. Who's up for something greasy from our favorite love-doves and then watching that angry vixen be one twitch from killing old Almondine?"

"I did rather enjoy the spectacle when Dukey and I went with that lovely couple. Perhaps it is a bit uncouth to say so, but there was so much raw and real emotion. Very rare to find that," Muffin said with a smile.

"We're very raw out here in the Burrows, it works for us," Judy said, checking the time on her phone. "It's also very different. I actually have to carry cash around here. About the only time I need money is more some of the service terminals at the stations and in a surprising number of bodegas and delis."

"In the moon we trust, all others pay cash," Sylvia chuckled. "In Tundratown plastic is great for tourists but the natives always carry folding money. I got used to the Burrows really quick."

"Let's head back to the homestead..." Judy began.

"Hey, I vetoed that!" Princess cried. "I may be getting along with sis here but her parents are nuts!"

"I second that, my parents are still too nutty to deal with," Sylvia concurred.

"As I was saying..." Judy firmly said, one paw thumping on the ground. "We **do** need to go back to the homestead because we have all those trucks to take back. It's just lucky enough of us here can drive. We take them all back and then take one out to the main drag."

"Turns out papa training me to be a valet was useful," Sylvia said while stroking her chin. "Guess that was a good thing."

"The wealthy can become helpless out in these kinds of places," Muffin said, looking a bit lost. "My apologies for my inability."

"Ah, it's a different thing out there in the city, cuz, just how it is," Princess said. "Ride in with me. We can talk about decking out your new place here just right."

"Thank you, cousin," Muffin said, standing beside Princess.

"And while we're there we can grab something. There's plenty of stingless carrot cider down in the sub-sub-cellars, that should be enough for us," Judy said, standing with Sharla.

"You'll be in Bunnyburrow a lot, I think we all know it," Sylvia said, throwing an arm around Hayma's shoulders. "I'm getting good at knowing about the place. I'll help you get your head around the way things go. You might not believe this, but it's the fast lane here in Bunnyburrow. Squirrelburrow is the sloth lane. It's nice enough but you need to have fun around here."

"I... I do think I will be here very much. Buck will want to show me this place..." Hayma quietly said.

The six ladies made their way out to the parking lot of the train station, where among other vehicles were three older model Pride Drey pickup trucks. Judy and Sharla piled into one, Princess and Muffin in the second, Hayma helping Sylvia into the third before getting into it herself. They headed off onto the packed dirt road outside the station, their own miniature convoy.

"Breaker, breaker, this is so thirty years ago," Sylvia said with a chuckle. "Everyone in the sticks has a phone. How much did this cost to throw them into all these Farming Tanks?"

" _Exactly how many cell towers do you see around here? Over,"_ Judy asked through her own CB radio.

" _Just barely enough to provide coverage that avoids being spotty and you know it. You mention it enough, Sylvia. Over,"_ Sharla added.

" _It's a practical reality. I've got a CB setup in the store and I use it more times than my phone. I'm never caught out with the delivery trucks and I get all the info I need in advance. Over,"_ Princess said.

" _You never questioned it before. What took so long? Over,"_ Judy asked.

"I never drive. I have my Chernabog to putter around on and if I'm in one of these Kenny's driving, and I'm just listening to him chatter," Sylvia said, hanging up the CB before picking it back up and adding, "Over and out."

The trio of pickups made good time down the dirt roads out to the sprawling Hopps homestead, the women parking them in the designated dirt lot for the farm vehicles. Judy was the first one out, counting off items on her fingers. "I'll grab the carrot cider. Princess, head into the kitchen and get something that might be good. Yes, we stock fish and insects. Three predators in the family, we need them. Sylvia, you get into the cab of one of these. Everyone else, bed-riding time."

"Bed... riding?" Muffin asked, looking to the others for clarification.

"The home-grown Burrows form of entertainment. Pickup Surfing," Princess said. "We don't exactly have a lot of travel options besides walking, and most folks just have trucks for work. You put how many folks you can in the cab and the rest pile in the back, hold on and hope for as few bumps as possible."

"Goodness... how bold," Muffin said, eying the back of the truck she had ridden in on.

"You'll get used to it. Live here long enough and it's a thing," Sylvia said, getting helped into the cab of one of the trucks by Hayma. "Thank you. I'll be sure to help you when the time comes. Size difference makes things more of an issue."

Hayma reflexively rubbed her belly, her scent glands fluttering and flushing a bit. "Y-yes... size is... important to consider..."

The kitchens of the Hopps homestead were seldom idle, either with full meals in production or various members of the family rummaging around for snacks. The pantries of the place were huge rooms, shelves cut and mortared into the walls. Princess ran her fingers along the cans and boxes, dragging a wheeled ladder with her in case she needed to see the higher shelves. "They need a shopkeeper's touch in here..."

"Well that's why we marry in new blood. We find an occupation we need and marry off a kit to one of them," a creaky, dryly-brittle voice chuckled. Pop-Pop stood in the doorway, stooped and leaning on a cane, an amused look on his old, squarish face.

"Pop-Pop!" Princess dashed over and embraced the stooped old bunny, planting a kiss on the top of his head. "It's a good system. You need organization in here, and we need an active buck to keep the Weaselton name going strong."

"That, he will do, I know it," Pop-Pop said, squeezing Princess with his free arm. "Been a long, long time since I held a springyspine. Toni wasn't so slim but she was just as twisty."

"Polecats aren't. Nobody is. Least weasels outclass 'em all," Princess said with pride. "Jake loves it. I can get a grip on him and one day I'll crawl my way all over him." She gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder and looked on him with warm eyes. "I'm sorry about... that."

"It was my fault. Always was," Pop-Pop sighed. "I made peace with it, loved my wife as much as I could, had children, made the farm work. I like how it worked, but I can still wish it could have been different."

"And now it is. Now a Hopps buck can go ahead and marry a Weaselton and be a country gentlebuck. I'll pop out so many long-eared noodles you'll need to dig new residence burrows," Princess said with a sigh.

"I'll settle for one little thumping springspine to spoil rotten," Pop-Pop said with a grin. "Just what are you looking for, dear?"

"Getting snacks for later, once the sun goes down," Princess answered. "Where do you keep the bugs and fish? Sylvia and I want some. Oh, and that nice fanged doe. She's just crazy over that, got Deputy Buck to gulp them down."

"Hmph, never thought that buckwild roe would ever be more than just a gangly nobody," Pop-Pop said, slowly creaking his way along the shelves, pulling out tins of sardines that had been shifted behind containers and also boxes of cricket flour chips and cicada bits. "That Sheriff was a question mark too, thought she was too soft, giving that buck more of a chance. But, she was just as soft as Sheriff Andy, just right."

Princess picked up the items revealed, piling them into one of the wickerwork baskets scattered around the pantry. "Just soft enough. That thing with the Network... they did a good job. I'll vote for her again. Daddy's stumping hard for her. Mr. Hopps too."

"Now, honeysuckle, you're our kin now, or near enough once that grandson of mine gets you in front of the Fiffarah. You love your daddy, but my boy can take the name too," Pop-Pop said tenderly, patting Princess' hands and giving her a wide, square-faced smile.

Princess smiled brightly and nodded, gathering more of the predator-slanted food. "Daddy's stumping for the sheriff, and he's gonna help pops out too..."

Deeper in the homestead, in one of the numbered offshoots of the sub-sub-cellars, Judy was down with her own wickerwork basket, selecting bottles of the unfermented but still carbonated carrot cider. Along with her was her mother. Bonnie was hanging back, chattering at her daughter, who did her best to avoid rolling her eyes.

"Honey, I know that Nick is a... good... tod. We all know it. The whole family is saying that..." Bonnie haltingly said, wringing her hands nervously.

"Yes, mom, he is," Judy sighed. What was even more infuriating to the matter was it wasn't ignorant bumpkin bigotry as there had been before. Her nervousness was a sign of progress. It was the worry about her children. "He knows the city. So does Duke. They can take care of everybody."

"Sweet cheese and crackers, and him... he's a Weaselton but not our kind of Weaselton. You said you... but he's like Nick. And that chinchilla of his is such a classy mammal. I guess everything's alright," Bonnie said, starting to babble.

Judy could only grin and roll her eyes. Her mother. "I know I had a hard time believing it. I ran him in more than once. But I see how he looks at Muffin, what he says and how much he changed. They're both good. And they're with Gideon and Deputy Roeberts. That should round out the evening."

"Well, we know we can trust Gideon..." Bonnie said, looking off into the distance. "Deputy Roeberts did a good job catching... your brother. But I think it was the sheriff that led that. Oh he's a good buck. So nice to that little doe of his. I still think of him as a buckwild type. I can't help that."

The little smile grew on Judy's muzzle. She could always count on her mother to be fretting about everything. For all it was predictably banal, it was still endearing. A tradition she could count on. "If you really meant that you wouldn't say you trust Gideon. Things change, mom. Sometimes a lot."

"But not... not so much, right, dear?" Bonnie asked, a kind of hitch in her throaty voice.

"Sometimes a lot. A whole lot," Judy chuckled, turning to face her mother and embracing her with her free arm. "But some things don't change. I'm a Zootopian mammal, but I'll always be your little doe, and this will always be my home. I hope that's okay."

"Sweetie..." Bonnie hugged her daughter tightly, eyes closed, body relaxed. "Kits grow up, they're supposed to go off on their own. But it's good to know you're always going to come home."

Judy settled into the hug for a long time, drinking in the warmth and softness of her mother's form. "I promise, I'm not going to change so much you can't recognize me. And Nick will be just fine taking care of Jake and Kenneth."

"I know... I know..." Bonnie sighed, letting Judy go and putting on her big, motherly smile. "You're right. Plenty of good guidance there. It's all going to go fine. But what about all of you? At least you're taking the stingless kind. Thinking about Sylvia."

"I don't think any of us really want to lose our heads. I mean, I don't. It wasn't my thing. We can have fun without it," Judy said, thinking about it for a moment. "And yeah... we'd hate to leave Sylvia out of it. Much trouble as she is, she's nice. Princess seems to be getting along with her."

"Family should get on with family. I'm just afraid it'll get harder and harder the more of you I marry off," Bonnie said with a deep laugh.

Judy laughed in kind, if slightly more softly. She had a thought at the back of her mind that she really didn't want to bring up, but it just came out. "I hope you're ready for more weasels. We'll have more than Princess. I think some of them are going to get a lot of mileage out of _Varmint Vale_ and Cotton's probably going to want to read _The White-Shield Woozle_ , and some others too."

"And don't keep that _Signy Norge_ book. We all know how... charming foxes can be. There's more than a few tods waiting. A few more vixens too. Ones with... more happy parents," Bonnie said, diplomatically.

"We can call the Articas troublesome, just not to their muzzles," Judy noted. "Sylvia knows it. She teased Princess about being related to them by marriage. They'll live in Zootopia, they won't bother us."

"Oh, sweetheart... you think that. But I've heard them talking. I don't speak whatever it is they speak but I've heard the way they speak when we can understand them. That word they keep using, boyar... I think it means gentlemammal farmer. They think we're rich and powerful landowners. I guess the old country liked landowners. I have the feeling they want to hang around here and be a nuisance. I hope they don't go on to bother Meister when they find out he's a big wheel too."

"Oh they'll never go out in town, they don't like Bunnyburrow," Judy sighed. "Nick told me they were talking-down the place on the train. They want to treat the homestead like a resort."

"A dacha," Sylvia said, standing at the door to the cider room. "I'm not an invalid, I didn't want to just sit in the truck. In the old country the rich folks kept a country house to go to for vacations. Muffin says she and Duke are making their own kind of dacha here and they deserve it. Don't let my parents get away with turning your home into their pleasure palace. We'll all never hear the end of it."

"Well I'd hate to be rude to guests, to family even..." Bonnie said with some concern.

"Family works. It had better. I work. I just malinger because Mr. Dreyson's the best boss ever and I still do all I need to in compressed time. I brought big-city crunch-time here, so I can loaf at work and not get fired," Sylvia said with a grin, picking up one of the baskets of cider. "Just put them out in the fields. Please. Make it hard work. Make it exhausting and filthy. They'll never come back. And no, it's not unkind to do that. They're fine out in Zootopia. Better for them, and us."

"Well... I... I suppose that we need to get some of the leek beds weeded, have some of the insect mulch spread out, replant the Nighthowlers... I'm sure there are more things," Bonnie said, a slight smile hovering over her face as she considered the prim Arcticas slogging through the dirt.

"There we go, that should chase them back to Zootopia. Two phone calls a week, one a month here to the homestead, visits on... whatever holiday they pretend they follow for social reasons. They'll send toys, and demand photos. Lots of them. They doubtless will have lots of them in wallets to brag about their landed grandchildren. Never minding the large ears or teeth or short tails, or whatever comes up," Sylvia laughed, motioning to Judy.

"We need to harvest things too. Have them do it," Judy noted with a wink before following Sylvia out.

Back up top, Sylvia and Judy put the baskets of cider into the back of one of the trucks beside the food they had chosen. Muffin, Hayma, Princess and Sharla were huddled close to the back of the bed and all helped to secure the baskets down. Judy helped Sylvia up into the truck and took her place behind the wheel. "So where to now, ladies?"

"Head to the shop. This food isn't bad but we still have time to get some of the leftovers from the walk-in. Got some of Gideon's fancy desserts," Sharla said.

"Do we need chairs? Daw Peony will let us have chairs, even a table," Hayma said.

"An outdoor cafe atmosphere, lovely thought," Muffin sighed.

"And then... to Hedgehog Copse," Princess said. "I met up with Pop-Pop and he always reminds me of that place. A magical place."

Judy cranked the engine, ground the gears a little bit and happily slapped a paw down on the gas. "We've got lots of daylight to burn. Shouldn't be a problem. Next stop, the bakery!"


	11. One Night In The Burrows- Part 2

I do not own Zootopia, that belongs to Disney. This a fan work made solely for the sake of amusement.

 **The Burrows**

 **Chapter Eleven: Bachelorettes- One Night In The Burrows, part two**

 **By: Gabriel LaVedier**

"The Tri-Burrows takes great pride in Gideon's work," Sharla said, with a good amount of pride. She and Muffin were both in the modestly sized walk-in refrigerator inside the somewhat cramped store. Sharla was picking from covered plates of old pastry and other baked goods, setting them on a plastic platter that Muffin was holding.

"I have seen a good bakery making a decent living with trendy foods and fashionable new recipes. I never indulged but noticed it. This seems more properly delightful. I've heard of communities centering on the baker's daily wares. I thought that was only in the old countries," Muffin said, surreptitiously nibbling down what turned out to be a cut-up lemon bar.

"Works that way here. We can all buy bread at Weaselton's place, and we do. Gideon does. There are other bakeries in Predburrow and Squirrelburrow, but folk have said they come out here to get some of his pastries. He's started selling small batches to Zootopians now. He does too much, always pushing himself too hard, trying to... I suppose atone for an early life of ignorance and bullying with too-hard work as acts of penance."

"Dukey seeks to buy his own. Oh he won't remove his anathema that way, he knows it. But tipping more, getting things mammals need, that sort of thing makes him happy. He feels like a big, big mammal when he acts more generously than he could before. But he's like your husband, like Judy's husband. A hustler, in the nicest sense. Works a bit too hard, can't ever seem to stop," Muffin said, rearranging some of the food bits on the tray.

"At some point I'll convince him to hire more assistants. He has just a few part-timers from town. A few Hoppses, one of the Dreyson boys now and then, he needs a set assistant. That wolf the Sheriff is seeing should do. He bakes for Network meetings and does alright. But, try getting Gideon to give up his hard work," Sharla sighed, laying out a few more slightly-marred slices of pie before leaving the refrigerator with Muffin.

"He never seemed that stubborn, not that I saw," Muffin noted, placing a plastic cover over the tray.

"Oh my tod is quite the friendly one. He's changed so much, but some things stick. He's got his ways set. He always thinks he has to work so hard. I don't usually mind but he needs to learn how to relax," Sharla sighed. "Keeps the doors open and a roof over our heads but there's more to life than that."

"I won't deny it but money can be a comfort. It took away the dangers in Dukey's life and gave him rest. Seems more that hunting for it that makes some mammals do such regrettable things. I hope you can convince him to some ease," Muffin said, giving Sharla a comforting shoulder pat.

"'Ease' will never be part of Gideon's vocabulary, but he can work slightly fewer hours, if not days of the week," Sharla laughed, walking out with Muffin and locking up the shop.

The pickup with the rest of the ladies was idling out in front, with the tailgate down, Hayma and Princess there to help Sharla and Muffin back up into the bed. "Fine pastries. We will have to bring tea for this," Hayma noted with a fangy smile.

"Second tier baked goods. Broken crust, split filling, not enough layers, slightly smashed by a cutter. Still delicious but Gideon won't let himself sell them," Sharla explained.

"He'll relax. When you own the business you start getting picky. Daddy was always so persnickety about things but he mellowed out," Princess chucked. "Just give him a nudge now and then. Folks in the Burrows won't care how it looks if it's the usual delicious thing they expect."

"I hope it doesn't take until our first first child is getting married," Sharla laughed.

The truck rolled out from the shop and out of town, taking the dirt roads out of Bunnyburrow and into Squirrelburrow, a relatively short trip made even shorter with the use of the vehicle. It was something of a drive out to the Seedcache property but not too much of one. They pulled in soon enough up the long driveway to the tree stand manor. The whole thing looked healthier than it had when the incarcerated Seedcache had been running it; as well there were bright decorations of a distinctly foreign cast, doubtlessly put up by Hayma with permission from Peony.

"I will require some help for this task, but only some," Hayma said while getting down from the back of the truck. "I know where the tea service is stored and will need aid to carry them out; the table and chairs are outside for use at garden parties."

"I got this," Princess said, clambering out of the truck bed. "We can get the chairs and table when we come back."

Princess and Hayma went around to the side of the tree manor, which was surprisingly primitive in structure for the home of a rich mammal. It looked to be something like a medieval wattle and daub construction with smoothed plaster covering the gaps between the tree ring on the outside of the stand. It was slightly more sophisticated, with the trees as frame, the wattle being webbing of metal-braced plastic, and the daub being a water-resistant resin mixed with fine-grain and flexible plaster polished into perfect smoothness.

Inside the manor was very much like an open floor plan building, the trees of the stand like the columns of ancient temples, kept beautifully polished and decorated. Some walls were put in place with more wattle and daub, while the specially placed slits and open windows allowed natural light to flood in. Up above the higher levels were less floors and more a tangle of walkways with a smattering of furniture visible through some of the gaps. It looked like the bedrooms would be located on the bottom floor.

As the two opened the lightweight doors to the main living room of the manor they caught sight of the lady of the house, the chipmunk Peony Seedcache, and her boyfriend, Will Dreyson, the tallest Dreyson boy. The dark fawn fox squirrel was naked save for a cluster of soft moss and tender leaves as a kind of undergarment and a mask of twined green twigs. Peony was covering her own body in bound-together flexible osier withies and a mask that looked to be made of cottonwood puffs and catkins. They had been in the middle of a twining, sensuous dance when they were walked in on.

No one spoke for a short moment, before Hayma bowed respectfully. "Pardon, Daw Peony. We require the tea service if that will be possible."

Peony nodded and lightly chittered. "Don't forget to take the battery kettle. There's no gas hookup wherever you're going."

"Of course. We will require not too much water and will be very careful," Hayma asserted, starting to cross the room to get to the kitchen.

"Really? Who are you trying to impress? The Fifs can't see you, you won't earn extra points or however it works for you Solaterrans," Princess said with a light laugh.

"Both our families are big shots, wealthy and well-known," Will insisted. "It was natural that they asked Peony and me to do the dance of glory of spring come the equinox. We need to be ready for it. We're on the big stage."

"The secondary big stage," Princess corrected with a grin. "Squirrelburrow is second place. Oh... don't tell me your sister and brother-in-law are doing center stage downtown this year... Travis Dreyson in moss and green twigs. I'd love to see a polecat try and dance like a least weasel. Your sister is gonna snap him in half!"

"They're doing the night portion at the Convocation hall," Will answered. "Dancing the equity of night is a big deal and we're all very proud. I hear they want Kenny and that fox of his; she should have whelped by then."

"Of course a Hopps... but Kenny and Sylvia? No vixen could ever possibly do what a weasel can do," Princess insisted, demonstrating her flexibility by leaning far back, touching the ground and hand-walking her way in a circle with her paws firmly planted.

"Showoff," Peony sniffed, a smile playing on her lips. "Your family is a big deal in the Tri-Burrows, no need to add the shelling for free."

"You bone the fish if you can. That extra step means a lot," Princess said, rising back up and stretching out.

Hayma returned shortly after, carrying a wickerwork basket that softly clinked even with her very careful steps on her tiny hooves. "Thank you. I will be careful."

"We'll all be careful, Peony. Now you get back to practicing. Will, you're stiff and awkward, makes it harder for her," Princess laughed.

"Oh, easy for you to say. I bet Jake's worse. Squirrels have nice, loose spines, you just can't compare them to weasels," Will grumped.

"He does alright for a rabbit. He can really move. See you folks around," Princess happily called, waving as she and Hayma left the stand-manor.

It was the work of a few moments to slip out some of the folding aluminum and rattan chairs and one of the square rattan tables into the bed of the pickup, with some added assistance from Muffin and Sharla. Sharla leaned the chairs up against the side and braced them, also putting a hoof on the table.

The job done, the two hopped back into the bed of the truck. Hayma carefully pressed her body against the basket, near the cab beside Princess. "Electric kettle, teapot, cups, saucers, tea and water. We should enjoy this night greatly."

"Most fun you can have without booze and with your clothes on," Sylvia quipped from the truck cab.

"You'd better be serious, we have fun without getting hammered," Princess said with a grin. "We usually figure out that we don't need it pretty quick. And remember, naked doesn't mean you're up to something. Naked 'cause exists. I was fully clothed that one time you mentioned. You too."

"They're my brothers, I don't need to hear this!" Judy wailed, pulling the truck out of the driveway and onto the road, toward Bunnyburrow.

On the way back the in-cab CB crackled to life. _"Breaker, Breaker. General Store on the Hopps wavelength. Princess you out there, over?"_

Sylvia picked up the microphone and clicked it a few times. "She's in the truck bed. This is her new sister answering. What's going on, Mr. Weaselton? Over."

" _Ask her where she put the figures for the last delivery and the updated P &L statement. I also can't find the storage data. I need to know what we've been selling and what we can stop stocking. Over."_

Princess called from the back of the truck, "Tell him it's all on my phone! I have enough bars to mail the spreadsheets, he can get it from the office computer! I'm cutting back on the paper!"

"Mr. Weaselton? She's stopped using paper, it's all on her phone. She's e-mailing the spreadsheets to the office computer. Over."

" _Darn it, Princess! I need my paper records! I can puzzle out that fool machine but I like flipping through the collated files! Send them out and I'll get a look over them. You can stop printing them out when you and that husband of yours take the store from my hands after they get too arthritic to punch the register and not one second before! Keep printing them and leaving them here for me! Over and out."_

Sylvia clipped the microphone back on the dash, looking back toward Princess. "Did you get all that, sis?"

Princess rolled her eyes and huffed. "Dad..." She pulled out her phone and quickly tapped away at it while grumbling. "There. I swear... I'm trying to cut costs and he just wants to keep going with the old ways. We're going to run out of filing cabinets eventually."

"I work for one of the most high-tech agencies in the world. I have a filing cabinet of telemetry data for my old satellite work, and old mission briefings, conclusions, all that," Sharla said, reaching out to pat Princess on the shoulder. "Backups on hard drives, USB dongles, the cloud. We still need durable copies to provide extra security."

"I mean, I get it, But still... we're in a digital age. But yeah... durable hard copies can be good too," Princess said, leaning back against the cab. "Hey Judy. He just said that. Don't read anything into that. I don't think of Jake as just 'my husband' just because my name is over the door of the store. It's his too. We're equal."

Judy breezily waved her fingers, shaking her head a bit. "It's just an expression. I know he doesn't mean anything bad by it. I mean, I call Nick 'that husband of mine' sometimes. 'That fox of mine' too."

"Dukey can never be more proud to hear 'that weasel of mine.' He puffs up full and proud like he just squeaked to the moon and the whole convocation applauded. Expressions have different feelings sometimes," Muffin said with a smile.

"I hear so many mammals speak of Buck, and then say 'his little doe'. They speak of me with tenderness. It feels nice to know they care much and like our partnership," Hayma said, slightly fluttering her facial glands and wiggling her ears.

"You fit in great, believe me," Princess said. "Good to have you around the Burrows. A little city flavor never hurts, no matter what that bitter Fallow says. S'why I'm also so glad you're coming in to live here part time, cousin. I hope you bring us some good, fancy stuff. Dunno what it might be, but we want it." She patted Muffin on the shoulder and smiled.

"I endeavor to fit in with the environment, cousin, but I'm sure I have some bits and bobs that would serve this place as well," Muffin chittered happily.

The truck turned off the mostly level road onto an even more rough road that made all the ones in the truck bed huddle closer to the edges, while also more securely holding down the things they had with them. Judy yelled back after hitting a particularly heavy divot. "Hold strong, ladies! No other way there but through here!"

"G-goodness! I seem to be a real country girl now!" Muffin cried, briefly in the air as the truck bounced over the pothole. "I feel so authentic!"

"Is this how it works?" Hayma said with a jittery voice, desperately holding the clattering basket down securely. "I too must be a country doe!"

"Cussing right you two are!" Princess whooped, shifting a bit to securely hold down the table. "You ride a bed on a road like this, you get your cred instantly!"

It was a bit more of a drive down the pitted dirt road before they pulled off onto a grassier expanse. Judy parked the Dray far from one of the notable features of the area, a sharp drop off to the west, just enough to make it looks like a great place to stand and have a slightly raised view of the land. To the northeast was the feature that gave the place its name. A hill of significant circumference was covered with a copse of trees, the only large number in the area. When they were leafless it resembled a curled-up hedgehog.

The women in the bed of the truck disembarked, Sharla first, as her slightly larger frame made it easier for her to bring down the tables, the chairs and the baskets of food, drink, and tea paraphernalia. She helped them down after, Hayma first, then Princess, and finally Muffin, who gave an appreciative nod of her head. "You should sell tickets. Amusement parks would fall over themselves for such a ride."

"It's not that much less exciting in the cab. Whew. Good thing these lil ones are rooted so well in there," Sylvia said, one hand on her belly as Judy helped her out of the truck.

"I never really used to think much about this place until I sat there listening to Pop-Pop talk about it," Princess said, looking at the grassy expanse between the drop-off and the copse. "Same place, same sights, but it seems so... magic."

"Strange to think about, but... I feel that way," Judy said, moving around the truck and folding out the legs of the table once she got her hands on it. "I loved Gam-Gam. She was a wonderful doe. I just agree with him. I would have just loved to have burrow-gran Toni. We'd have so many noodle buns in the family."

"Just you wait, you will," Princess asserted, unfolding the chairs and setting them up by the table. "Jake's warmed up and ready to go. Pop-Pop is all too eager to be a great-grandpa, ready to spoil some little halves."

"I am so fortunate to have this family, if only by marriage. Impending marriage, when I can arrange the time with Tender Fisi. He's not my local Tender but he's the only one I'd want officiating. I hope he does not assume I'm attempting to trade on my generous donations to the Association," Muffin said, helping Sharla to lay out the food.

"Everyone knows Tender Fisi's a good mammal. He's been so proud and happy since he backed down Simba Pride. It's sweet to see Jasiri and Kion up at the front of the sanctuary, them and their friends," Judy said, getting Sylvia into one of the unfolded chairs by the table. "He did my wedding, I'm guessing you saw it."

"You looked lovely in that plain dress. Sometimes simplicity is perfection," Muffin said, puffing a little bit while she helped Hayma to set out the cups that she had brought. "And Gazelle was so unique in that red dress."

"It was a cultural thing for Hu Lin. Red is a lucky color in his culture. Not that those two needed added luck. Treacly love is my thing. Nick needs convincing," Judy chuckled.

"It must be a Hopps thing. Kenny really makes the molasses flow. He calls it the honey-glow," Sylvia said with a chuckle. "You've got magical powers, turning foxes into moon-blind idiots. And I'm happy to run around yapping."

"Jake's not syrupy, he only makes big gestures when it matters," Princess said, lightly twisting her ornate engagement ring. White gold, with a gemstone carrot and fish crossed on it. "This family has great attitude."

Hayma poured a jug of water into the bulky battery-powered kettle, pressing a button on the machine and getting out boxes of teabags. "I have all the flavors I think could be wanted and some tea from home. Mother sends it to me, she thinks we are deprived here."

"We are, it's why I order so many things via Zoogle and why Gideon has started ordering small batches of very exotic fruit from Zootopia," Sharla commented, laying out some of the bottles of cider.

"Speaking of lacking stuff, did anyone bring any illegal fireworks?" Sylvia asked, pouring herself a glass of the carrot cider. "We could have some fun."

"You realize I'm a cop, right? I don't care if you're family. I arrested my own brother, I can get you too. And you're talking about arson with all this dry grass," Judy chided. "And if you don't consider my Zootopia badge any good here, Hayma can have Buck come get you."

"Just a suggestion, just a suggestion. Come on, lighten up, sis. A few little fireworks can't hurt. Like you never picked up fireworks at a weird, shady tent by a dirt road sold by a buck with missing digits and a cig in their mouth. How else do folks in the sticks have fun when they're dumb kits?"

"We're not all like in the movies. Some of us have sense. And dad would have screamed them from here to desolation and back," Judy said, sitting down with her own bottle of cider.

"Your preference, Daw Lanige?" Hayma asked, picking up the kettle and motioning toward the boxes of tea.

"I should try something new, but I have my comforts. I'll have the mint tea, but with some green if you have it," Muffin answered, casually lounging in her chair.

Hayma laid two teabags in the cup, giving a fangy smile. "Green is a favorite of mine. I always have much."

The little group made small talk and nibbled on little bits of things for a time. All the travel had eaten up the day, the sun growing low in the western sky. Princess looked over to the west to catch sight of the sinking sun and saw Sylvia slowly making her way to the precipice with a bottle of carrot cider in her hands. Though she looked content with her solitude, Princess made her way over with halting steps.

Sylvia had settled herself near the edge, at first tying to put her legs over the edge then giving up and tucking her legs under her and petting her swollen belly. She looked out at the sun, occasionally taking small, slow swigs of her cider. Her fingers traced over the bulge of her pregnancy while she softly sang something in the language her parents were often jabbering on in.

"Hey, uh... that sounds nice," Princess said, a little awkwardly, spine slightly curved, hands fidgeting in front of her, adopting the standard nervous weasel posture that her cousin had long ago mastered and often used.

"It's a little lullaby my mother used to sing to me. I only kind of speak their language and I don't have an accent but I learned a few things. I always knew I'd have kids and I'd need it. Just never figured on halves," Sylvia said with a smile, stroking the generous curve.

"I want to stand with you in solidarity but no... just like Ermintrude Dreyson I also figured I was going to get a half. I had it for Jake all my life, just had to wait... I figured we'd have a Division relationship. Hiding out. But now..." Princess sighed, taking a seat beside Sylvia.

"Think Pop-Pop would have let you?" Sylvia asked, glancing aside.

"Moon love Pop-Pop, but he knows he's not strong enough to stand up to society. He would have just showered us with all this love and affection, probably left the farm to Jake and put our children in his will ahead of everyone. But... now we get to be married, and the farm... is probably going to Kenny," Princess said with a deep chuckle.

"Yeah... yeah, my husband is gonna be the head of the Hopps Farm. Not much money in it, but plenty of fame, notoriety, our name on boxes of produce. He can even keep on working as a paralegal and insurance buck. He gets the farm and all that means," Sylvia murmured, tilting her head to lean in on her arm. "And all that means."

Princess was quiet for a long moment, looking out at the setting sun as she contemplated the repeated words. "Not feeling so hot about being the lady of Hopps Farm? You're the new Bonnie, Sylvia Hopps, lady of Bunnyburrow."

Sylvia took a moment to reply, taking another swig of her cider. "Tell me sis... your pops is really happy about you hooking up with your bunny, right? Even if he's stapling on your name and gonna be your right-hand mammal and loverbuck and not the lord high moon glow of Bunnyburrow, your dad's still proud?"

"Would have been proud of Division, because we'd be together and he'd be working hard. It's about love. Dad had... some tough times after mom died. Family matters even more. He's got all his heart set on this, it matters so much," Princess answered, reaching out and taking the bottle of cider, taking a swig without wiping the bottle.

"My family's really proud. They love that the Hoppses own their land and their home. It's so impressive Kenny's probably going to be the top of the pile. They're just so proud of how much status we'll have, how great it will be to have a dacha. So proud... so festering proud..." Sylvia sighed, taking back the bottle and chugging a good mouthful of the carrot cider.

"But not proud of you," Princess said, finishing the thought. "I didn't think they were, like... malicious."

"They really don't mean to be, they don't," Sylvia insisted, looking down at the relatively small drop before her. "They have... a unique culture that being foxes in Zootopia created when filtered through the way things were in the old country. They learned it well and keep it close."

"Wow. I didn't know it was like that out there. I'm a Burrow jill. The Sheriff and her fiance have family from out there but they're all about strong families and love, though I hear her future in-laws are desperate to keep them together because they're afraid she's going to find someone better. She says it's funny when she hangs around the store buying stuff to give them as traditional stuff."

Sylvia sighed over the top of the bottle, making a soft tone. "Family... they want that too... good things. For them and also for me. Also. You don't mind doing things for your family. I can see it. You aren't forced, you aren't..."

"Being used," Princess finished.

"I love Kenny. Love him as much as anyone ever could. I think he charmed me day one. 'Aw gee shucks, you got the honey-glow going on me. Nice to meet you.' I teased him more than was prudent. He shouldn't still be head-over-paws for me, he should be seeing someone way nicer. But he's still there for me. For me. Just me. Not for the family, not for the prestige, not for appearances. Me, just me," Sylvia smiled and hugged the bottle tight to her chest. "But I'm being pushed toward him, to get his name, his status, everything. I'm a pawn. I never thought I was until I realized that all my love is what they want me to do."

Princess took some time to answer, drumming her fingers on her leg. "They're controlling you if you keep thinking like that. Let them think it. Let them be happy about it. It's your marriage. If they want to leech off it, you can call them parasites to their faces."

Sylvia looked aside with a grin. "I thought you weasels were masters of guff and spoor. I expected you to talk around it and give me a bunch of nothing."

"I'm practically a multi-generational business owner. I think clear and direct," Princess chuckled. "You're my sister, more or less. You need the advice. So, go down that aisle, and say whatever it is the Tender wants you to. Forget the rest of it, it's just you and Kenny. Then out to go do something besides the usual for the honey-time. I mean, you just need to lie back and..."

Sylvia lightly pushed Princess and laughed. "I can do normal things." She offered the bottle of cider over again and smiled. "Thanks, sis."

Back at the table Sharla and Hayma were discussing the finer points of the treats that had been brought from the shop and how they paired with the tea that they were drinking. Muffin and Judy were leaning against the truck, Judy enjoying a bottle of cider, Muffin having a cup of tea. They were also looking out to the west, at the setting sun. "It's just like Nick's fur right near the nape. He loves buck teeth scraping along there," Judy sighed.

"There are few things in nature that look like my dear's coat. I have had a particular blend of cocoa made that is a perfect match, and a particular amount of lightener for my coffee that does the same. Concocted by him, in point of fact. He has found quite a muse with beverages now that he no longer... is required to fill his time with vending questionable wares," Muffin explained, calmly sipping her tea.

"Nick sure found out he had a whole lot of free time when he stopped having to gaffle to eat," Judy chuckled. "Pounding a beat takes up plenty of time, then, time in the evening to hang out with folks from the precinct, and... well, husband and wife stuff. Sitting up in bed reading, you know?"

"Completely innocent activities of the committed, of course," Muffin said with a delicate laugh and a nod. "The act is an enriching part of a relationship. And we have so much potential for... you know what we have potential for, once I finally free my biology."

"I'll end up just like Sylvia over there, as soon as I stop my medication. Princess will too, she only thinks she knows how hard it will hit her," Judy noted with a chuckle.

"According to my Dukey, we will go around town leading a dozen walking boas. His conception of our progeny seems to involve the body of a weasel with my luscious coat. Life is so much more variable but I cannot doubt the loveliness of his thoughts," Muffin sighed, sipping her tea slowly.

"Don't get me started," Judy said with grin. "That fox... he can't ever take things seriously. All he cares about is, do we call them boxes or funnies? I swear... but, he has a good attitude, and that's what matters." She drummed her filed claws on the bottle, staring out at nothing. "You... you're one of the only ones in the whole Burrow who understands what it's like to have someone like Nick. We can be honest about where they came from. Not just from Happytown. How they survived."

"Yes, yes..." Muffin whispered, also staring out at nothing. "His confessions of venality in the Convocation chamber and before the Tender pale before the desperate, sobbing admissions lost in the forest of my puffy bosom. He came so clean even the clear water of The Great Watering Hole would look like a silty river delta. Survival was a precarious thing. He once told me he robbed next week to pay for today. Well, you know. You arrested him. He... please understand. Call me a pathetic wealthy matron... but I needed him to survive. I never knew it, but I needed him to survive..."

Judy reached out and gave Muffin's shoulder a comforting squeeze. "Love'll tell us what we need and suddenly we get it. Dumb fox... he had to survive too. He had a lot of pain and misery, being degraded by prey. He built up a tough shell, and did anything he could to get along. You met the sister of his partner. They're out there right now, hopefully not getting my brothers lost in the city..."

"Dukey did relate some anecdotes related to this tod when were eating our ice cream at the parlor. No matter his influence, my dear can steer them in the right direction. Ah, in concert with your Nicholas, of course. Between the two of them we can be assured your brothers and their companions will come through it well," Muffin said with a firm and assured nod.

Judy continued to drum her claws on the bottle, taking another swig. "It's hard to tell what we can do. Not that I think we need to do anything. But we can say it. We have reformed scoundrels in our lives. Nick just keeps that smarm charm of his, and it's wonderful, but it reminds me so much of his old life."

"There is no cure for their ways, not the deepest parts, nor should we change anything. It is no sickness they have, that is them," Muffin sagely said. "Tell me, do you imagine that your Nicholas was a cunning, crafty, and intelligent kit?"

"Imagine it? He brags about it. I'm sure even a few of those stories are true," Judy chuckled. "Born crafty, born clever. Smart, skilled, he was ready to be a good citizen of Zootopia. Then... a lot of things happened and he had to start early. His mother didn't want him to do it but he knew he had to. For the right reasons."

"To do bad for good reasons... yes. To keep food in her mouth I would imagine, a rough roof over their heads. For love, and then for money and then for habit," Muffin sighed. "Or upbringing. Nothing could ever really taint the genes he carried from here but his father certainly did his best to ignore them. But you said it yourself. Reformed scoundrels. Scoundrels, yes, our own picaresque princes. But reformed. Like some kind of ore, thrown into a furnace, the slag skimmed and hammered off, recast into better forms. The same metal, purified and made better. I would say we've hammered and polished them into fine Peacewalker icons, yes? Better, no cold metal statue ever had so much passion." She held out her teacup with a smile.

Judy softly clinked her bottle against it with a similar smile. "Pax and plenty to that."


	12. Here Come The Brides- Part 1

I do not own Zootopia, that belongs to Disney. This a fan work made solely for the sake of amusement.

 **The Burrows**

 **Chapter Twelve: Here come the Brides, Part One**

 **By: Gabriel LaVedier**

"Two ceremonies, two receptions, one day, Stu?" Bonnie was glaring hot daggers at her husband as she laid out invite cards onto the huge, circular table that had been set out in the front of the Hopps homestead. It had taken some slight wrangling to get everyone settled as they wanted or as they didn't want but it was done and now she had to lay it all out. All accomplished without a wedding planner.

The outer area had been marked out with all wooden poles that had streamers hanging off of them in a riot of colors. An artificial bower had been set up at the end of an aisle with rows of chairs on either side. A small cairn had been raised up at the head of another aisle, with more chairs facing that. Over the bower, a large banner flapped with a tree rising out of a watering hole. Over the cairn, a banner with the phases of the moon going from waxing to full and waning down to a silvery crescent.

"Bon, you know that Princess wants to get married Convocation-style. It means all the sun and earth to Meister and her too and even Jake wants to give her that. My old pater would have my head if I didn't give her exactly what she's after. If there was no cuniculus-mater Toni we're giving Princess anything she wants to get the wedding to happen," Stu said, in as conciliatory tone as he could muster, considering his burden. He was finishing laying out the chairs, with an unfinished lightweight metal stage waiting for him, which was set in front of a dance floor made of carefully arrayed slats of lacquered wood.

Bonnie sighed, setting out the last of the cards and going over to help her husband. "It's her day... night. If only it could be easier. Not having those Arcticas would help too but... not everything is optional. But can we really expect folks to like this? It's so odd. Everyone eating at Kenneth and Sylvia's reception, then a dinner just for the Selenic folk..."

"Mammals' gotta eat. It's around lunch, so we feed 'em all. It's just how it's gotta get done, carrot cake," Stu said, hugging Bonnie as he passed her on his way for more chairs. "It ain't normal but, it makes everybody happy. Even you, I think."

Bonnie laughed softly, getting some of her own chairs to put up. "I'm happy. I am. My little kits are getting married. I'm losing a son and getting a daughter. And we're getting some... in-laws... well, the Weaseltons are going to be family, and that lovely chinchilla is coming with them."

Stu nodded. "That should make up for the Arcticas."

"Hard to make up for it but that side of the family's pretty nice," Bonnie mused. "At least Kenneth agreed to have the head Fif alongside that Tender. The church is still there..."

"Just move on, the other children are still there. Jake still goes. Kenneth is happy in the Association, so are the O'Pogos; that says a lot for it," Stu chuckled. "Our home is good for a few weddings. We'll need to keep it available. We may as well practice, there are going to be more."

"Lots and lots more. It's a nice place," Bonnie sighed, moving over to work on the stage.

Up in the higher reaches of the Hopps household the two brides were being helped into their attire by their attendant maids of honor, Judy and Ermintrude Dreyson helping Sylvia; Muffin and Sharla helping Princess. Both of them were done up in essentially similar white dresses. Princess' had a slight embroidery on the belly section, a subtle scene of leaping fish in a river done up in light blue and pink, and thick, multi-layered folds of lace around her neck. Sylvia had the basic dress let out greatly in front to accommodate her large, pregnant belly. She also had a veil hanging in front of her face, while Princess was wearing a bark mask marked with carmine swirls and dots.

"Just yank it hard!" Sylvia cried out, looking back at Judy who was pulling the zipper on the back of her dress. "I'll walk down with a rip but not hanging open."

"How is it this hard?" Judy grunted, pulling the zipper harder. "Mom measured you ten times!"

"Your brother inherited Vlaamse from somewhere. Or I have some russki in me from way back. Maybe mama's a dwarven albino, but they ended up big," Sylvia grunted, squeezing Mrs. Dreyson's hands, the dark black fox squirrel bearing up easily.

"And that's why I kept up the pill until just this week, sis," Princess said, calmly sliding her stockinged paw into the sandal that Muffin was holding open, wiggling her fat pawtoes as the straps slipped around the paw. Muffin's deft hands did up all the straps, securing the plain high platform sandals with the high heels, making her impending cousin even taller than before, nearer to the height of Sharla. The ewe was carefully adjusting the decorative ribbons holding the mask on and dabbing more paint on, carefully consulting a small pamphlet illustrating the designs.

"You'll get yours, sis, just you wait," Sylvia grumbled, gasping and shivering as the zipper suddenly rushed up and finally closed properly. "Thanks, sis. I won't look terrible and that's the important part."

"It's all about the details," Judy said, dropping a ring atop Sylvia's head which streamed multicolor ribbons off of it, surrounding her whole head with the bright fabric strips. "The little things matter the most." She adjusted the strips of cloth to get them out of in front of Sylvia's face, letting them trail back behind her head.

"Ahh, you look so beautiful, cousin. It makes me look forward even more to my own nuptials," Muffin sighed, securing the straps on the other sandal. "Are you certain you can get about on these... objects?"

Princess laughed softly and did a small jump, landing with perfect balance. "I've restocked the shelves on things just like this. I've gained a lot of skill on them, and can last all day. I have to. I intend to go down the aisle on these. And dance my first dance with Jake."

Sylvia snorted softly behind her veil, reflexively hiding her mouth with a hand. "Snrk. First dance..."

"It's the traditional name. I know what you're trying to say but... you're right. I've been out dancing with him. Tenderly," Princess said with a smile.

"Right. You're pre-loaded with the Hopps Sappiness app," Sylvia said with a flick of her tail. "I still need the upgrade. Kenny's only too happy to do the install."

"You'll get it. You're turning into a real Burrows vixen. You've ridden a pothole road in a truck bed, that's a good start," Princess said with a smile.

"I'll get the hang of things," Sylvia noted, brushing her hands over her cloth-covered belly. "Well... when's the best time to go down?"

"They'll let you know," Judy said. "It's all set up for you. They're probably just waiting on Rebecca Cuniculus. Sharing marriage duties... I never even thought of it. Nick and I were just married Peaceground style."

"Hardly any decent Solaterra churches in the city, except that one that Gideon found," Sharla noted.

"That was an influence on a full change to Peaceground," Judy admitted. "But I still attend here. They don't do the Lepus rite in the city anyhow."

Elsewhere in the homestead, the grooms were admiring themselves in mirrors, all the fiddling details being settled by their groomsmen. Nick and Gideon were working on putting colorful streamers onto Kenneth's felt hat, which went with his bright reddish-orange tuxedo coat and slacks, with a powder blue shirt and bow tie. Duke and Travis were putting the last touches on Jake's dark blue tuxedo that looked like the night sky. Sequins had been sewn onto it, to mimic the twinkling of stars. The coat had two long, trailing tails and his lapels shone with polished pieces of iridescent metal that resembled the belly of a large beetle. Travis was tending to the bark mask Jake had on, dabbing on white marks to make it slightly resemble a stylized, decorated skull.

"Looking good over there, Kenny. Nice and colorful," Travis said, using his blunted claws to tap on very tiny details onto the dried bark. "I see why you like that Peaceground thing."

"Thank you kindly, Mr. Dreyson, sir!" Kenneth chirped, adjusting his hat slightly to make the colorful ribbons sway. "Should look good next to Sylvia. And you're lookin' good over there, brother! Real fancy work on that there mask."

"You got some big ones, cousin," Duke noted, twitching his artfully kinked whiskers while he made sure the iridescent panels on the lapels were properly placed. "Goin' full on Baron and Maman. It takes real stones to go like that. I... I did everythin' ya know I did and I ain't got the guts. Hustlin' spoor like me got no right, no matter how much I love that dustypuff..."

"If you have the second ceremony I'm pretty sure the Houngan or Bokor would be alright with it," Nick said with a grin. "You cleaned up, just like me. You can wear Baron's mask even with Anathema on you. You love that fluffy lady as much as I do Carrots. Pretty easy to tell."

"I only know a little about what you did. But, you're family now. I think you can pull off the shell patches and the mask. Couldn't hurt," Jake said, smiling under the mask.

"Don't seem right is all..." Duke mumbled, running a hand though his carefully tousled fur, redolent with _Stoaty Sheen_ fur oil.

"Hey, hey hey," Nick interrupted, looking over at Duke and snapping his fingers. "It's got nothing to do with anything you said. Getting married Baron and Maman is about one thing. You say what that is."

Duke twitched his whiskers again, eyes casting about quickly. "Love. True love. Pure love that makes shinin' moonlight look pale. Gotta have more love in yer heart than can really be in there. If the Bokor or Houngan sees one little thing wrong you ain't getting' the masks."

"You hung it up. You got her. You don't have the love? You gonna say that to her face?" Nick asked, needling Duke with all his smiling skill.

"Ain't no mammal loved anyone like I do with her," Duke asserted, lips parting a little. "I ain't worthy-a th' honor it is. Ain't no lack-a love. I just ain't the kind that gets good stuff."

"Just ask her. She'll tell you how much you deserve it. After Jake and Princess do it she'll demand it," Nick asserted with a slick grin.

Duke lightly rubbed the back of his long neck and chuckled softly. "Yeah she will... she's gonna buy some fancy masks, get me a suit like this with real nacre lapels. She's gonna look good in her Maman mask. Brighten up that chamber like the moon. She's sure silver 'nough..."

"We all get good stuff, if we deserve it," Nick chuckled, giving Kenneth a quick brushing with something like a small hand broom with soft fabric tassels. "Thanks for what you tried to do, dad..."

Kenneth reached out and patted Nick on the shoulder. "Brother... musta been some kinda dad to make you come out so good. Wish we all couldda met him."

Nick nodded slowly, tucking the broom back into a pocket on his blueberry-hued tuxedo. "I gotta wonder sometimes... John Wilde and Son present Suitopia. I'd be a tailor's apprentice right now. Not a cop... maybe... not your brother... mom'd be happy with that. I'd be happy... without Carrots."

"No sense lookin' back, cousin. It all happened. Ya got yer bunny, yer badge, and that partner'a yers grinds the pole an' romances ladies in our complex. It's all nice an' settled," Duke asserted with a firm nod of his head.

Nick twisted his head in Duke's direction, looking prepared to snap off an acid-tongued avalanche of his usual sharp snark. He hesitated just a moment, almost feeling an invisible hand from Judy restraining his reflexive reaction honed from long years of his personal quest to be what others saw. "Your dad wasn't much, you told everybody that. I get it. But sometimes a mammal needs to think about how it might have been. I'd love to have him back, and I wonder if I'd be as happy with him still in my life, a legitimate businessmammal. Just without Judy."

"I know what life'd be like with my d- Muffin. Not hardly worth livin'. Even with ma and dad still there. They weren't like your folks. Happytown's not that kind to everyone. Guess I... stopped thinkin' 'bout it 'cause... it ain't healthy ta think like that so much. Don't do much good ta see yer carcass at the bottom of a frozen river in yer head," Duke said, his face a mask of brash confidence. He wasn't stung. He wasn't hurting.

Nick gently tapped Duke's chin and gave him a smile. "Past is past, cousin. It was hard, but we got this family now. Sweet as blueberry pie."

"Ain't it just the truth, brother?" Kenneth cheerfully asked, giving Nick a sudden hug. "No matter how it all wouldda shaken out. You might still know us! Ol' Spikel's still lookin' for an apprentice and shop assistant. Every mammal needs good clothes, needs them repaired. Him an' the missus been askin' around at the Sanctuary."

"Don't think I'd ever leave dad on his own. Wilde and Son. Maybe Wilde and Daughter next generation. Hmm, no law against police officers owning their own businesses if they just hold the title. I'll get some little hands cutting patterns and sewing seams. Wilde-Hopps and Family present Suitopia," Nick wistfully said.

"Ovine 'n' Daughter's Real Good Baked Stuff... thank ya kindly fer a new name, someday," Gideon said with a soft chuckle. "Sharla says she don't care, but I do. Want me a pile of lil vixewes. Wouldn't fuss 'bout a todram 'r two but I know how I grew up. Think I'd prefer raisin' daughters."

"Oh Gideon... you think Judy was easy on anyone?" Jake asked with a laugh. "Just your luck, you'll end up with a dozen Judys and a son mild as a spring day."

"Wouldn't mind 'bout that lot either," Gideon said with a happy lilt.

All heads turned at a sharp rap on the door.

Stu stuck his head into the room and grinned at the collection of figures. "Well now, fellas, time to get a move on. Kenny, polish up your Lepus liturgy and whatever else you might need to say. Time's come for ya. Jake, the Houngan arrived, he's all howling-ready for you when the time comes."

"Moonrise can't get here soon enough," Jake firmly stated, fidgeting with the bow on his mask and nervously adjusting his shiny lapels.

"This'll be somethin'. Never seen how them Solaterrans do it," Duke admitted, sweeping his front and adjusting his necktie, a band of beautiful silvery silk.

"And it's more impressive than you would have seen in the city, young'un. Lepus rite's pretty rare. Gideon got lucky he found a Fif that knew it," Stu asserted. "Heads up high, all. Family takes pride of place in the audience, and of course, being groomsmammals gets you high standing too, Gid, and you Travis."

"Listen to that... pride of place like family with the Hoppses. Never would have imagined in a million seasons," Travis said with a rub at the back of his head.

"Never ever. But it's such an honor," Gideon concurred, happily making his way with the rest down the twisty paths of the Hopps home.

The entire tone and timbre of the front of the Hopps homestead had changed in the time between the set-up and the arrival of the grooms and their attendants. All the guests had arrived, a great percentage of them in very colorful, but still formal, attire, though some, such as Pop-Pop, had on dark and conservative garb. The stage had been set up properly, with both Bobby Catmull's modified Catsio and Jenny Thicket's pickup-equipped small harp on the stage, near their amps and sound board.

The collection of guests were all sitting on the chairs beside the aisle headed by the artificial bower and the PUCA banner. The grooms' attendants all moved to take their seats, some of them sitting beside their significant others, the bridesmaids. Jake took his own seat in the audience, giving a thumbs up to his brother.

Bonnie carefully hooked her arm with Kenneth's, smiling up at her son. She gently patted his hand and leaned on him. "My little kit..."

"Always, mama," Kenneth whispered as the two moved down the aisle to the strains of a pre-recorded bit of music activated remotely by Jenny. As they casually strolled they were showered with flower petals thrown by the guests closest to the aisle.

At the head of the aisle, under the banner and in the bower stood two figures. A chocolate-colored bunny doe in the earth-toned robe of a Solaterran Fif wearing a shiny golden mask that blazed like the sun stood beside a brightly-smiling white bunny buck in a long, rainbow-colored robe.

Bonnie unhooked her arm from Kenneth's, planting a kiss on his cheek before going to her seat. With another push of a button the music shifted again, becoming a low, slow tune as Cynthia appeared at the back of the aisle, accompanied by her sharply dressed father. Gregor Actica was puffed up with pride, the arctic tod strolling grandly with his daughter, as though the shower of petals and leaves were for him. Sylvia, for her part, smiled in bemusement at her father getting in what he could from the outpouring of respect.

Gregor left Sylvia with Kenneth, moving off to join his wife in the audience, placed slightly back from the front row. Sylvia pushed herself against Kenneth and smiled aside at him. "Hey. Lookin' sharp, _daddy_ buck."

"Lookin' fine and fecundus _mama_ vixen," Kenneth replied, with a warm grin.

The robed Fiffarah spread her arms and lifted her masked face. "In nomine Sol Invictus et Sancta Terra, pax vobiscum."

Certain elements of the audience bowed their heads, lifted their hands and replied, "Et pax vobis."

The rainbow-robed Tender also lifted his arms and swept them across the crowd. "To all those here I offer bounty and peace. We are gathered here in the name of stability and calm beneath this banner of the great watering hole to witness the union of this loving couple, known to this community. These two, overflowing with love, have chosen to make a commitment to one another, to be united. By this unity they show the path of peace, they bring to physical being the promised leisure and togetherness."

The Fiffarah stepped forward, turning her golden-masked face to Kennth. "Kenneth Hopps, vis accípere Sylvia Dorothy Arctica, hic praeséntem in tuam legítimam uxórem iuxta ritum sanctae matris et patris?"

Kenneth looked aside at Sylva, one hand settled on her swollen belly, heavy with their kits. His trademark wide smile grew even larger on his lilac point face, and the word, "Volo," slipped easily out.

The Fiffarah nodded and turned to face Sylvia, letting the reflected sun wash over her face for a moment before speaking. "Sylvia Dorothy Arctica, vis accípere Kenneth Hopps, hic praeséntern in tuum legítimum marítum iuxta ritum sanctae matris et patris?"

Sylvia stroked her belly once more, consciously doing what she had been unconsciously doing all morning. She'd been trained by Bonnie, inasmuch as training was needed, about what it all meant and what she had to say. It was a scripted line. But seeing Kenneth's pale chocolate face beaming with so much love it would have seemed impossible had she not known him, she felt the emotion well up in her and emerge in full force with her tender pronouncement of, "Volo."

The Fiffarah motioned to the two and stepped back, allowing the Tender to step forward. "As the statement of agreement has been done, Kenneth and Sylvia have written their own vows, pledging further unity and love. So, go ahead, young ones."

Sylvia regarded Kenneth through her veil, taking a hand in both of hers and pulling it to her belly. "Kenny... the first day I met you I thought you were ridiculous. I walked in there and looked at that bow tie, the big buck teeth framed by that huge smile, and thought you were corny as cuss. Here I was, sophisticated city vixen, I knew best. This chipper buck is too much. No way I'll ever be able to take him seriously. I didn't. But you took me seriously. You gave me respect I certainly didn't earn and really didn't deserve. I took advantage of you so hard I probably shouldn't even get to talk to you. But you got me lunch, picked up little things, got coffee, told me how nice I looked... I think I fell for you while you were still thinking about how much sugar I liked in my coffee.

"I was fooling around with you. That's what I told myself. I honestly thought that. Then one morning I just looked at the pill in my hand and set it aside. Nothing more significant. Then the fire... and you were there for me. While I was just scared and confused and out here far from Zootopia... there you were. Giving me everything. You didn't even stop when I told you I was off the pill. I had nothing to offer you but snark, sass, and comedy. And you gave me all this love.

"I promise you, Kenny, for the rest of our lives I'll be more than just a standard arctic vixen. I'll be a cutting, easy-going sass-yapper who goofs off at work and gets you to pick up lunch. And I'll be a fair mother, probably too lenient. But one thing I'll be is serious. I'll take you seriously. We'll be partners, do everything together, laugh and cry and love and just... everything. We'll do it. Promise." She moved his hand off her belly and brought it up under her veil for a kiss.

Kenneth stroked Sylvia's cheek as he moved his hand back to her belly, caressing the warm swell slowly. "Sylvia, you give me the honey-glow something fierce. I know I say that a lot, got that glow just welling up inside me, it's all gotta come out. But there's just something especially special about how you make me feel. It's like I got a million fireflies whirling around in my belly. And I don't even eat fireflies. You were shining like a beautiful lantern the first day ya came into the office. I just couldn't keep my eyes off of you.

"I knew there was something special about you. You just weren't like anyone out in the Burrows. You weren't just Zootopian, you were sure special. I loved how cool ya were, how ya managed ta backtalk Mr. Dreyson but never got mean about it, ya laughed and made a day more fun. I never had a bad day before but when ya got hired I have better times and brighter days. That coat of yours ain't just white and fluffy, it glows up nice and makes the whole day nicer.

"I ain't gonna be no perfect husband or perfect daddy. We'll be leanin' on mama and daddy now and then, just to keep the little'uns growing right. We all got our little nicks and such, like any tree that ever grew, weren't none of them smooth and polished. We got our work cut out for us, but we're gonna make it. You and me, Sylvia. And the little'uns. And the family. All of us together, but right at the core, at the heart, with all that love. You and me, forever."

The Tender stepped forward again and raised his arms high. "Thus pledged, by the power invested in me through the Peaceground Unitary Church Association and through the Governmental Council of the Unified Counties I now pronounce you Kenneth and Sylvia, wedded. You may now kiss to seal your unity."

Sylvia flipped up her veil and eagerly went at Kenneth, meeting his mouth is in a huge and powerful kiss. Their arms wrapped around each other, squeezing both bodies in tightly while thunderous cheering and applause moved through the audience. The deep and active kiss lingered on until nearly the end of the applause, on the cusp of being too awkward. The two separated, each with eyes half-lidded and looking to each other. They turned and strolled back down the aisle to the strains of live music. Bobby and Jenny were up on the stage, playing the full version of the traditional old country wedding music Bobby had previewed for the Arcticas.

"Food's ready for everyone!" Stu called over the cheering din. "If you're scheduled for both weddings go ahead and have a bit, it's a good stretch 'til moonrise!"

The crowd in the chairs made their way to the huge table, finding the name cards displaying their places, with special places set out in front of the tall cake topped with ceramic representations of a bunny in a tux and a vixen in a dress, with a little belly of marzipan on her front.

Bonnie, Stu, Sylvia, and Kenneth moved from the cart with plates back to the table, serving those seated as was Solaterran tradition. Kenneth pulled his father aside after a few passes, asking, "Shouldn't the Arcticas be here? Parents and the newlyweds serve the guests..."

Stu sighed and shook his head. "Son... you got a dud pair for in-laws. Best get comfortable with it now. Sylvia's the only good crop out of those withered seeds. Just count your bushels and leave the chaff alone."

"Well that's... that's none too kind, or true. They're sure nice folk to me," Kenneth said, heard by Stu and Bonnie as she came over to get more plates.

"They want to latch onto the property, dear," Bonnie said, giving her son a kiss on the cheek. "Don't mind them, just get on with things. We'll all manage."

Though confused, Kenneth dutifully finished serving everyone and took a seat with Sylvia in front of the cake. The two of them took up a big cake cutter, slicing into the lowest tier and feeding each other the first bite, to applause.

Nick picked up his flute of non-alcoholic carrot cider, served in deference to Sylvia's pregnancy. "This sort of thing usually goes to a friend, but Kenny there picked me. Thanks for the nod, it means a lot. So... you're married to a fox now. No takebacks, you're stuck with her now, bunnies can't get away from us." He held for a moment of laughter, noting Judy tried to look angry but was more lightly amused. "Judy always told me about her family. All her siblings. Some came up more than others. You're supposed to be the odd one. Yeah, oh yeah you are. And that's the best thing in the world. Odd enough to be more than zero. Odd enough to pick someone you shouldn't have. Odd enough to give her kits without a care. That's some oddity and look at you now. You've got it all ahead of you, and I can see you'll grab it tight and make a lot out of it. You're good. You're a hustler, squeaky clean and spotless as they come. That's a recipe for going far, and you'll be the kind of father that'll make kits remember you forever. The best kind. The best." He covertly wiped his eye and toasted Kenneth again, taking a sip from his flute while the gathered celebrants clapped, toasted, and sipped.

When the clapping died down Ermintrude Dreyson rose up, lifting her own glass as all eyes went to her. "Sylvia has been... quite a fixture at the shop. You're quite the topic of conversation around the house. You're special, that's for sure. Distinctly different. Like a foreign seed in an orchard, strange pollen. But you know what? Combinations like that make orchard-tenders with forethought happy. Variety is the spice of life. Having a wild seed from Zootopia in our Burrow made things so strange. But for all you make Travis crazy, you're never too bad and you always keep things in order. You create chaos and manage it at the same time. You're a bounty to our Burrow, to this community and I know you'll make a wonderful mother, a link in a continuing chain that keeps our little home wonderful." More cheers and applause followed the speech, Ermintrude taking a big swig from her flute.

"You got that weird music down, honey-hocks?" Bobby asked aside to Jenny, gently nudging the mule deer as she chowed down on a big plate of salad greens and carrots.

"Did those icy foxes pay you extra?" Jenny asked. "It takes time to learn some kind of traditional dance tune, especially on an instrument they don't even use."

"Mr. Hopps kicked me a few extra bucks and a promise to book me for some family holiday or another if I'd do it," Bobby chuckled. "I feel for him. Glad my new family'll be nice."

"Daddy says you eat us out of house and home he'll be skinning you and having mama serve breaded cougar for a week," Jenny casually said.

"I'm a poor, hungry feline, sweetling. Just have him take me out noodling with him sometime. I'll earn my keep. Gotta get to know my new pop anyhow," Bobby said with a smile.

Jenny smiled in return, slowly rising after polishing off her meal. "Well, for all he shoves that tranq rifle in your face he's kind of taken with you. Good to meet a tom that shows me respect. I'll arrange something, maybe next Frededas. You can bring back a big creel of catfish and mama will gladly slice them up and fry them fresh."

"Hey, there's a good Frededas spent," Bobby said, licking his lips as he imagined those catfish wrapped in Jenny's mother's signature cornmeal batter. The two of them made their way back to the stage, Jenny adjusting her sound board and plucking strings on her harp to get the levels right while Bobby picked up his keytar and adjusted the host of knobs and sliders on it. "Hey folks! Time for the couple to come on up for a dance and then the big free dance! So get that food down ya and come on out!"


End file.
